Dandelions
by CiaraShayee
Summary: Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last
1. The Beginning And The End

**So, uh, hi. This one's a little weird for me. It came to me a couple of  
** **months ago now while I was listening to a random playlist on Youtube.  
** **As seems to be my MO, it's probably going to be heavy on the angst, but also  
** **kinda heavy on the sweet-eventually. It'll be HEA, of course, but I honestly don't know  
** **how we'll get there or when. This one's holding the reins, not me. I'm hoping  
** **it's going to help kill my writer's block, so...we'll see.**

 **Oh, and because it's more a stream-of-consciousness dealio, it's unbeta'd as  
of right now and I have no rigid update schedule, although I'll  
try and keep updates regular. All mistakes are mine.**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognisable characters; those are all Stephanie Meyer's.  
No copyright infringement is intended.

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Dandelions**

 **The Beginning And The End**

The heavy weight of words unsaid and the feelings I've been repressing for so long sit like an anchor in my chest; unwieldy and unwelcome.

I blink back the sting of tears, cataloguing everything about his face as he stares at me with those bright emerald eyes—a gaze I know almost better than my own.

"This…" He stops, clearing his throat. "This can't be it...can it?"

My heart is breaking. Or maybe it was already broken, I don't know. Either way, the pain spreads through my chest as I close the space between us and slowly slide my arms around his waist. He's warm. Comforting. The smell of him, woodsy and achingly familiar, invades my senses. As I press my cheek to his chest, in the same spot it's rested hundreds of times in the last thirteen years, I feel his heart galloping away.

Like mine.

"I miss you," I croak.

The tightening of his arms as they wrap around me tell me he knows what I mean. He's right here, but I _miss_ him. I ache for the boy I fell in love with. The happy-go-lucky boy who always wore a lazy grin and board shorts. He's gone now. Lost to a world of suits, lies, and a career that I never really took the time to learn about. The boy I fell in love with, the boy who taught me to ride motorcycles on La Push beach and who stuck chopsticks up his nose to make me laugh when I had tonsilitis...he's not here anymore.

Just like I'm not the same girl who thought life was all fairytales and happy endings. I grew up— _we_ grew up. And just as people tried to warn us, we grew up into vastly different, incompatible people. We'll always be linked, of course. We share three beautiful children and a life we built together, some of which will be easier to separate than the rest. My aching heart seizes as I picture our babies, our gorgeous children who've already faced too much in their short lives. But we're not the same kids who once thought we'd be together forever. Not anymore.

With that thought, I force myself to pull away even though it physically _hurts_ to pry my arms from his waist. He clings harder for a beat longer before releasing me with a shuddering sigh. I'm a grown-up—or a 'growned-up' as our youngest says—but I feel like a terrified kid on their my day of school as I suck in a small breath and peer up at the man I always thought I'd spend the rest of my life with. The man I'm raising children with, building a home with...breaking up with? It seems inconceivable that we'd ever have an end.

"I'll pack some bags and call a cab." The words taste like dirt on my tongue.

"Don't leave, okay?" His hand moves toward me, but I step back just out of his reach and shake my head minutely. I'm losing the fight against my tears now, but it's too hard. This is too hard without him holding onto me, too. "Stay here and I'll go somewhere else. The kids—" He chokes, raking a hand through his hair and chewing the inside of his cheek.

 _God, our babies._ As always, my heart fills to the point of exploding when I think of our three children. Jace and Dillan, our boys. They're so very smart for their age, but also extremely sensitive and resistant to any kind of change. Sadie, our little ballbuster, as Edward calls her. She's her daddy's princess; their sun rises and sets with each other.

 _This is going to break their hearts._

I picture how their innocent faces will look when I pick them up from their nana's in a few hours. I'll have to face my mom and dad; I'll have to persuade them there's nothing wrong even though it feels like my whole world is imploding around me.

"I need to go…" I mumble. Walking on autopilot, I reach our bedroom. I can't look at the canvas print of our first dance as husband and wife which hangs above our bed, or the frames decorating the dresser. The pictures immortalize some of the best parts of our life together, but right now, I can't think of our fifth wedding anniversary sipping wine at the top of the Eiffel Tower, Jace, Dillan, and Sadie's Gotcha Day, or the day we said _goodbye_ to the USA and _hello_ to British living.

"Where will you go?" Edward leans in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm not sure yet."

"Demetri's?"

I grit my teeth, cursing when a swipe of my hand under our bed uncovers nothing but carpet and Sadie's lost pink sneaker.

 _The hall closet. The suitcases are in the hall closet._

As I slide past Edward, he silently refuses to move. The length of my body brushes against his, my hitched breath making his eyes clench shut before he stalks down the hall. The suitcases hit the hall floor one-by-one, in sync with his heavy footsteps on the stairs.

My falling tears create dark spots on Jace and Dillan's green _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle_ case as I set it on my bed, hesitating for a moment to collect myself before returning to the hall for Sadie's _My Little Pony_ case and my duffle. It only takes a few minutes to pack the essentials for the kids—a few of Sadie's pull-ups, Jace's Lamby, Dillan's _Spiderman_ pajamas. Underwear, clothes, their toothbrushes and spare shoes…

Chewing my lip, I can't help it; I glance up at the canvas above our leather headboard, almost savoring the spear of pain that tears through my chest. It means I care. It means that, at some point, we were on the right track. We looked so happy. So carefree. We had no idea that in our first year of marriage he'd lose his job and we'd receive the heartbreaking news that we were both infertile. No idea that all our childish dreams were just that.

"Bella, we need to talk about this."

I spin in place. Edward's expression is grim, his eyes watery and bloodshot. I've always hated seeing him lose it. He's cried exactly four times in front of me.

When I agreed to marry him, when we were told we'd never have biological children, when we met Jace, Dillan, and Sadie for the first time, and the day they came home to stay.

 _Five. Five times. He's crying now._

I never wanted to become a statistic. A number on a chart representing broken hearts and failed marriages.

 _Is that what this is? A failed marriage? A failure?_

Even now, even as my heart splinters and I zip up the kids' bags, I can't bring myself to call this a failure. Not when so much good has come from it.

" _Edward_ , please…"

Neither of us know what I'm asking for, not really.

The honk of a horn outside breaks the red-faced, teary-eyed staring contest.

"That's my cab…" I called it while I packed. It's clear from the furrowing of Edward's brows and the downward curl of his lips that he didn't think I'd do it. Even as I packed for an indeterminate amount of time away with the children, he didn't think I'd leave. But I have to, don't I? This marriage...it's not working anymore. Maybe it hasn't been for a long time. Longer than I'd like to think about or admit.

My voice fails me— _another failure_ —as I ask him to call his brother or James; I don't want him to be alone.

He scoffs and shakes his head, tears tumbling over his cheeks unabated now. I shiver as he crosses the room and cups my cheeks in his large hands. For a moment, just a moment, I let my eyes slip shut and allow myself a few selfish seconds of soaking up the comfort his touch has always given me. He's been my best friend, my first _everything_ , my boyfriend, my husband, and the father of my children. He's still some of those things, but it's not enough anymore.

 _We're_ not enough.

Pain radiates from my shattered heart as I finally take a deep breath and move out of his grasp, tears pouring from my eyes and ice slithering through my veins.

 _Be strong, Bella. You need to be strong_ — _for yourself, and for the children._

"Wait, B-Bella. Don't leave. Don't throw away our marriage."

I pause in the doorway, pulling my case and the boys', Sadie's resting on top of her brothers'. It hurts to face Edward and know that when I cross the threshold of the bedroom and the hall, I'm crossing an invisible line that I don't think I'll ever be able to cross back over. If I do this, if I leave, I know in my heart of hearts that it's permanent. We don't do this—we're not the couple that fights, that breaks up just to make up and get back together.

A small voice in the back of my head reminds me that this time...this time it's different.

"Are you asking me to stay because you want me to, or because you think you should?" I ask, genuinely wondering.

He looks puzzled by my question.

Sucking in a breath that burns all the way down to my lungs, I ask the question I wasn't brave enough to ask earlier. "If I stay…Edward, if I stay, do you honestly think you'll be able to look at me the way you used to? The way you did before I...before what happened, happened?"

The flash of fire in his wet eyes is all the answer I need.

My tiny, humorless smile is sad as I let him off the hook. "I'll have the children call you when I get them settled."

He nods jerkily, just once, and the last time I see my husband as I cross that invisible line, he's sitting heavily on the edge of our bed—my side—with his head in his hands and his fingers pulling hard at his hair.

The cab driver looks horrified when I step out onto the street and make my way toward his car. He hops out to pop the trunk, helping me with the bags before hurrying back into the driver seat away from the crazy lady with mascara streaked cheeks and heartbreak written all over her. Rattling off my parents' address, I lean back against the leather with an exhausted sigh. My eyes slide shut and all I can picture the entire time I try to figure out how I'll ever be able to break my children's hearts is Edward's tortured face as I walked away.

Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Something lasting.

Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

* * *

 **Thoughts, anyone? Am I totally dumb for kinda liking this? *facepalm***


	2. Where It All Began

**You guys have blown me away with your amazing reaction to the first chapter.  
Thank you all for adding this to your faves and alerts, and for taking the time to review.  
Much love and big hugs to all of you *blows kisses***

 **I should have put this warning with the first chapter but I forgot, so here it is-  
this story may tackle difficult themes, but I'll put warnings at the top of the chapters so  
if you're worried, please drop me a message and I can hopefully assuage those fears for you  
**

 **As I said before, this is totally a stream of consciousness project for me, so the chapters  
may not all come as quickly or be as long as this one. They're also unbeta'd, so please  
bear with me. **

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognisable characters; those are all Stephanie Meyer's.  
No copyright infringement is intended.

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

 **Dandelions**

 **Where It All Began**

 _ **June 2004**_

"Oh my God, Bella! Look!"

With a roll of my eyes, I slide out of the _Bentley_ Mr. Stanley rented from his neighbor's son for the evening—which smells suspiciously like weed, by the way—and look at the monstrosity known as Forks High.

There are flapper girls and dapper boys everywhere, lanterns strung around the parking lot and a big sign pointing toward the gym. It's my personal hell that Jess is pointing to, though.

"C'mon, Bella. We've gotta get our picture taken."

Jess drags me over to the arch decorated with enormous feathers and twined with strings of fake gold pearls. The photographer—otherwise known as Mr. McCready, the janitor—tells us to smile as he snaps photos of us under the arch, then points to the big basket of props just out of shot.

"Jess, do we have to?" I...okay, yeah, sue me—I whine.

She turns to face me, hands finding her hips, and scowls. To be fair, she _does_ look great; I'm not surprised she wants a bunch of photos in that get-up. Her naturally curly blonde hair took eons to tame but we managed it with an entire bottle of hairspray and two hours in front of the mirror. It's arranged behind her head in an elegant chignon, Mrs. Stanley's earrings hanging from her earlobes in the same shade of pearl as her sequined, tasseled flapper dress.

"Isabella Swan, will you quit being a killjoy and just _enjoy_ this? It's the last fun we're gonna have together before we head off to college and have to make do with seeing you in the holidays."

Thoroughly guilt-tripped, I force a smile on my face and select a cardboard cut-out of a bottle of champagne and a sign that reads _I Heart The Roaring Twenties_. She grins, finding a monocle and a feather boa for herself; we pose for what feels like forever, but once I unclench and remind myself that Jess is right, we don't have long left before they all leave, I start to enjoy myself.

More of our classmates arrive, so we let them have a whirl in front of the camera and teeter around to the gym. There's a red carpet leading up to the shiny, gold foil fringe curtain which separates us and the second circle of hell.

Prom.

I swore off all high school dances after the debacle of two-thousand. Shaking my head at the memory, I loop my arm through Jess's and tug her inside before I can change my mind. It looks like the 1920s threw up all over the place. The volleyball nets and bins of worn basketballs are gone. There are feathers all over, everything is either gold or white, and the dance floor is already full of tuxedos and sequins as my classmates grind on each other and fail miserably at hiding the fact that the punch is almost definitely spiked.

"Isn't this _amazing_?" Jess squeals, pulling me into the melé by our joined hands.

 _Right. Amazing. Sooo not the word I'd choose, but here goes nothing._

 **~ i ~**

Much to my disgust, I actually _almost_ start toenjoy myself. The rest of our gang arrives shortly after us and we make good use of Angela's thigh flask so we don't have to risk drinking whatever delightful concoction the morons have put in the punch. Bree persuades us to dance for a bit—which is hella weird considering the theme of the night is the 1920s but the DJ is playing _Usher_ and _Britney Spears_. I guess he didn't get the memo.

Anyways, the five of us—Bree, Angela, Jess, Eric, and I—escape the throng of sweaty students and sneak outside to hide under the bleachers, where we swig wine from the bottle in the cooler Bree hid in the bushes earlier. She fishes a familiar baggie from her bra, waving it in the air between us with a mischievous glint in her dark eyes.

"Bree…" Eric huffs. "Can't you go _one night_ without getting high?"

Bree snorts. "I _can_ , but why would I?"

 _Why, indeed._ This night is starting to look up.

"Here, B. You do it. We all know you're the best."

That probably shouldn't put a smirk of pride on my face—being the best at rolling joints definitely isn't going to get me far in life, but it might just get me through tonight—but it does. I'm grinning as I tell Jess to shine her cell phone torch on my hands as I roll two perfect joints, but my smile falls when voices approach.

We all fall silent and Jess shoves her cell between her tits to smother the light as Principal Peters and Mrs. Cope—the school counsellor—walk by, his arm around her shoulders as she giggles at whatever bullshit he's spinning.

"I _knew_ it," Eric hisses gleefully. We all shake our heads at him, but it _is_ kinda funny. We all know Mr. Peters and Mrs. Cope are boning, but they're so _obvious_ about it, and Mr. Peters' wife is a calculus teacher here; she could walk around the corner any second and catch them all goo-goo eyed over each other. Cheaters are just...urgh. Assholes.

"What was that?"

" _Shit_ ," I whisper, watching Mrs. Cope stop and turn to scan the bleachers with her beady eyes. She narrows them as she gazes in our direction and I let out a breathy _fuck_.

 _Dad is going to kill me dead_ —

"Hey, Mr. P! Mrs. C! You're missing the party!"

It's too dark out here and the music spilling out from inside is too loud to place the guy who saved our asses. I squint at his silhouette as he saunters over to Mr. Peters and Mrs. Cope, chit-chatting with them for a little bit before they all wander back into the gym.

We sigh as one and lean back against the pillars holding up the seats, nervous laughter bubbling over.

"Okay, I need that sweet Mary Jane now," Eric finally announces, taking one of the joints from my hand and lighting up with his personalized lighter. It's silver and sparkles when it catches the light thanks to the rhinestones glued all over. We take turns passing it around; when it's finally my turn, I savor the burn as I hold the smoke in my lungs just long enough to make my eyes prickle with the threat of watering. Releasing it in a long, slow exhale, I just about choke on my next breath when a loud bang rings out right behind me.

"Holy— _what the fuck?_ "

A hand. It was someone slapping their hand on the metal bleachers. Two hulking silhouettes duck under the bars; when they stand up, I roll my eyes and take another deep pull from the joint before handing it to Jess.

"Of course. Crashing the prom, Emmett? Seriously? Aren't you a little old for that?"

Emmett flashes me a toothy grin, crouching a little so he doesn't hit his dumb head on the seats above. "I'm not crashing, little Bell. I'm a plus one."

Turning my eyes to the smirking douchenozzle beside him, I shake my head and cock my brow. "So this is _your_ fault, Cullen?"

With a shrug, Edward stuffs his hands in his dress pant pockets. "Well, Swan, technically this is _your_ fault. I didn't have a date, so…"

My stomach does a little flip as he cocks his head and that damn smile curls further. "You know, if _somebody_ hadn't declined to come as my date tonight, I wouldn't have been able to bring him."

Jess, Bree, Eric, and Angela cackle their traitorous, irritating hearts out. Of course, he's right. We were assigned each other as biology lab partners way back at the start of senior year and he's been a thorn in my side ever since. He's gotten it in his stupid, pretty head that we should be together. He's wrong, obviously. There's no way I'd date such a prissy little rich boy. He's fun to rile up, sure. And we've aced every project this year—but all that proves is that we make good lab partners.

A couple of months ago now, I guess, we were arguing over who got to take home Mr. Molina's dumb golden onion, and Edward said I could take it _if_ I agreed to be his date for prom. Obviously I swiped the onion and told him to take one of his groupies, but the boy just won't quit bitching about it.

I tune back into the conversation just as Eric hands the joint to Emmett. "Aw, Eric…they can get their own."

Bree waves me off, promising there's more where that came from. Apparently she has another baggie tucked in her bra, so we're good.

Despite having left Forks High two years ago now, the same year as my brother, Emmett gets along with anyone. He doesn't care that we're only seventeen—well, except Eric and Ang, who both turned eighteen last month—or that his little brother has brought him to prom as his 'date.' He goofs off with my friends and irritates the shit out of me by repeatedly calling me 'little Bell,' the nickname he bestowed upon me when his mom used to babysit me before I started kindergarten. He's an annoying pain in the ass, but I guess he's okay.

Edward, however...the boy drives me crazy.

"So, Swan. What would Chief say about his beloved only daughter ditching prom to get high under the bleachers, huh?"

I shrug, pretending I don't care. The truth is, if Dad finds out I didn't quit smoking after he caught me out on the roof a few weeks ago, I'll be grounded for the rest of my life and all my car privileges will be revoked. It's bad enough that I have to share the truck with my brother when he's back for the summer; losing it altogether would wreak havoc on my social life. Nowhere in Forks is close enough to walk to from our house out on the outskirts. Bree is in the same boat as me—she shares her car with her sister. Angela doesn't have her permit yet, Jess's car is in the shop after she crashed it texting while driving, and Eric's car is pink with only two seats. It's like squishing yourself into a sardine can.

We only have a couple more months together before they're all ditching me to go off to college—Jess and Ang to UDub, Eric to New York, and Bree to UCLA. They've all tried talking me into going with them, but I figure it's useless chucking Mom and Dad's money at school when I don't even know what I wanna do. They've already had to tighten the budget to put Alex through school, so...nah. I can take some classes at the community college until I figure out what Bella Swan is going to contribute to the world. Still, it sucks that I'll be here alone while my friends spread out all over the country.

I'm gonna miss those bitches something fierce, so I need these last couple of months to soak them all in. I _can't_ lose the truck.

"You gonna tell him?" The squeak of nerves in my voice is barely noticeable...I think.

In the light of Jess's cell, Edward's green eyes seem to glow. "Nah."

Relief flows through my veins, the combination of the weed and Edward admitting he won't tell giving me a good, chill buzz. "Good—"

"But my silence will cost you," he quickly adds.

I narrow my eyes, suspicious. "What?"

The girls, Eric, and Emmett announce that they're heading inside just as Edward says, "You have to dance with me. Just one song." He holds up a single finger, smirk already in place because he knows. He knows I can't deny him and risk him snitching to my dad.

"You're a dick, you know that?"

He nods. "Yep. Now, c'mon, Daisy."

Hesitating before stepping out from under the bleachers, I peer back at him in the darkness. "Daisy?"

Edward offers me an eyeroll and a snort. "Daisy Buchanan... _The Great Gatsby_ …you know, the whole theme for the night?"

"Ah," I mouth. Gotcha.

 **~ i ~**

If I thought the inside of the gym was hell on Earth earlier, it has nothing on now.

In our absence, the lights have been dimmed and the rest of our class has arrived. The gym is packed with my classmates and I lose sight of my girls almost instantly; Eric and Emmett take off toward the drinks table and then they're gone, too, leaving me with…

"Shall we?" Edward holds out a hand, wiggling his fingers.

"You're enjoying this far too much," I grumble, letting him tug me toward the dance floor.

He doesn't even try to deny it. My eyes follow his hand as he brushes his mop of reddish brown hair off his forehead, a sly grin curling his lips. There's no denying that he's a good-looking guy, especially not tonight. He's gone all-out with his suit, avoiding the tuxedo most of the other guys are wearing. Instead, he's wearing cream dress pants and a matching waistcoat with a navy suit jacket, a black tie, and a pale blue shirt with a white collar—he looks like he's jumped straight out of the twenties. He pulls me into his arms on the edge of the makeshift dance floor and when I glance down, I can't help but smile. His shoes are brown and white, smart and shiny and not at all what I'd have expected from the cocky boy I share a lab table with in biology.

"You know, you _almost_ looked like you were admiring the view then…" he whispers, his lips suddenly close enough to my ear that I can feel his breath fanning over my exposed neck. Tipping my head up, I'm almost close enough to brush our noses together. But I don't, obviously. That would be weird.

Up close, he smells like clean boy with a hint of rebel, the faint scent of weed clinging to him from outside. His hair is a little shiny, so I guess he had gel in it at some point, but it's in its usual clusterfuck style now.

With a shrug, I stifle my smile. "I guess you scrub up okay."

Edward purses his lips, shaking his head. "One day you'll admit you like me, _little Bell_ —" He chuckles when I yank my hand from his to slap his chest lightly. I love-hate the nickname, but it's just Emmett's name for me. It's too freaky when anyone else uses it.

"Like I was saying before you so _rudely_ interrupted…" I duck my head for a moment, watching our feet move together, as he takes my hand and puts it back on his shoulder. It doesn't feel as strange as I expected; dancing with Edward is actually sort of fun. "One day you'll admit you like me and we'll get married, leave this podunk little town, and have a bunch of kids that are gorgeous like me and brainy like you."

I blink hard a few times, wondering…"What the hell is wrong with you? You had to bribe me to dance with you, but now we're getting married and having babies?"

"I'm confident in my powers of persuasion."

In the interest of keeping the random thoughts in my head from spilling out, I chew my lip and let him lead me around for a bit before a sudden realization hits me.

"Wait...I get _brainy_ and _you're_ the gorgeous one? I don't think so, buster. You may have the sex hair thing going on, but I'm hot."

The heels I borrowed from Alex's girlfriend, Vanessa, are way taller than what I'd usually go for; they're at least five inches. Before we left, Jess told me they made my legs look 'miles long,' which I'm guessing is a good thing. Edward seems to like the effect, anyway. I caught him checking me out on the way back up to the gym. My hair is always straight, but we manhandled it into a bun and stuck a sparkly headband around my head. I think the part I like the most about my look tonight is the dress, surprisingly—I'm usually more of a jeans and hoodie girl. It's royal blue with black sequins and embroidery. It's really kinda short, but the soft black fringe that continues from the mid-thigh hem to just above my knees makes it almost modest. That said...it's clingy, sleeveless, and dips low enough between my tits that Dad just about had a heart attack when he saw me so...maybe 'modest' is a stretch.

I expect an argument or a laugh from Edward; I don't expect the serious, smouldery look that steals the smirk from his face and makes me squirm as he stares down at me.

 _Why did I never realize how tall he is before now? He's more than a head taller than my five-four._

"Yeah, you are, Swan."

The weed and the fancy wine Bree brought must be messing with my head. I swear Edward just stroked my back, and that look in his eyes…

It's like he wants...me?

"Wait, what?"

The music changes to some random, upbeat dance song and kills any remnants of the weird energy between us. I figure he'll ditch me and go dance with any of the many girls staring at him, but he keeps my hand wrapped in his and pulls me over to the punch fountain.

"Uh, no, thanks," I mumble when he nods at it. Leaning in close so the teachers nearby won't hear, I tell him, "It's spiked."

"Ah. Follow me, then." He makes as if to head toward the exit, but we don't get very far.

"Yo, little bro and little Bell—wait, that sounds cool!" Emmett's booming voice carries over the thumping beat of the music. He laughs at his own joke, then waves us over.

Edward shakes his head and sighs; one of those long-suffering, deep sighs that says he might be regretting bringing his big brother along, after all. "Come on, we'd better go. He'll never shut up, otherwise."

I can feel eyes on me, on _us_ , as we wind through the crowd. I mean, it _is_ kinda weird for me to be hand-in-hand with Edward. Everyone knows we fight and drive each other crazy.

 _So why does it feel so nice having his fingers between mine?_

Emmett and Eric are sitting halfway up the stands, so we make our way up and join them, accepting plastic cups of what Emmett assures me is straight pop. When Angela heads over a few minutes later with her trusty thigh flask—she's the only one with a dress that won't make it obvious—we sneakily spike our own drinks and ignore both the stares we're getting and the morons grinding all over each other on the dance floor.

It doesn't escape my notice that Edward never lets go of my hand.

 **~ i ~**

It also doesn't take long before Ang's flask is empty and the munchies set in.

As a group—Em, Edward, Eric, Ang, Jess, Bree, and I—we make the unanimous decision to ditch the crowning of the prom king and queen and head out for snacks and a more chill hangout spot. Ang and Edward are the designated drivers for the evening, so we pile into their cars and agree to meet up at the diner. It's the single place in Forks likely to be open, so we can grab some drinks that haven't been spiked and food that hasn't been fingered by tipsy seniors.

This is Forks, so it doesn't take that long to get to the diner. Ang, Jess, Bree, and I giggle our way through town after watching Eric hang his ass out of the back window of Edward's _Volvo,_ mooning Mr. Peters and Mrs. Cope all the way out of the parking lot.

"Oh my God, he's such a freak!" Jess squeals, whipping her cell out to snap a photo. Why anyone would want a picture of Eric's lilywhite butt, I have no idea.

I spend half the ride to the diner worrying Dad or one of his officers is going to pull us over, and the other half wondering why I suddenly can't stop thinking about Edward or why I'm sad he's not still holding my hand. When we chose cars, I hopped straight in Ang's. My brain is all muddled. I don't trust myself around this new Edward I've seen tonight.

As Forks Highs beloved, newly graduated quarterback, Edward has a group of followers that trail after him like his shit don't stink. It's sickening, really. If Forks were its own world, Edward would be one of the royal family—he's _that_ popular around here. And I'm not dumb; we fuelled the rumor mill tonight by dancing and hanging in the same crowd when we usually bicker non-stop. I already can't wait to hear what the gossipy bitches I caught staring say about us. I'm the bitchy, weed-smoking, unsociable Chief's daughter, and Edward's the star heading off to college in the fall with a full football scholarship. He's going places.

I got tonight's dress on sale in a Seattle thrift store, while I bet Edward's suit was tailor made just for prom; it's too fitted to be off the rack. He wears Armani sweaters to school and drives a flashy car, I wear holey jeans and drive a '56 Chevy. We're about as different as could be, but tonight...we've been, I don't know, _clicking_ , in a way we haven't before.

It's exciting and uncomfortable and I have no idea what's going to happen tonight.

The guys make it to the diner before us; they've already claimed the big booth in the corner by the time Bree has reapplied her make-up in the side mirror. I follow the girls inside, wiggling my toes in my worn Chucks. They don't match the rest of my outfit even a little bit, but they're comfy as hell and I think I did well to stick it out with the deathtrap Jimmy Choos for as long as I did. I'm glad Mom suggested bringing the Chucks, for sure.

Arriving at the booth, the first thing I register is that Edward has his arm slung across the back of the seat... _saving the last spot for me?_

The second thing is his smirk and the raised-eyebrow glance he shoots my feet. "Uh, very twenties, Swan."

"Bite me, Cullen. I risked a broken ankle for long enough. Now scoot."

He chuckles and shuffles up just enough that I can squeeze in beside him, then we frustrate the crap out of the waiter spending far longer than necessary perusing the menu.

"I always have the same," I finally admit, tucking the laminated sheet back in the holder. Grinning at the waiter, a Forks High '01 graduate, I rattle off my order. "Garden burger with cheese fries, heavy on the cheese, and a caramel Oreo milkshake, please."

He nods, writing it all down on his little notepad, so I pull out my cell and forward the few photos I took tonight to Ang. She wants them all for her end-of-high school album, so she can deal with the editing and everything. Photography's not really my thing; my expertise is limited to getting everyone's faces in the shot, and that's about it.

Warm fingertips brush my bare shoulder. I peer sideways at Edward, a ripple of unfamiliar warmth spreading through my stomach. I didn't notice before but his jacket, tie, and waistcoat are gone, leaving him in just the baby blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His toned forearms are what Bree would call 'forearm porn material,' and he's revealed the leather cuff on his right wrist bearing the Cullen crest.

I once asked him during biology what the symbols meant and then laughed him outta town when he told me his family had their own _crest_. I guess, in a way, it's kinda cool—not that I'll ever tell him that. The lion and clovers are pretty, at least, and the dark leather stands out against his pale skin.

"You know, even for someone who lives in the rainiest place on Earth, you're awfully pale," I tell him. "Are you sure you aren't a vampire or something?"

Flashing his pearly whites, Edward cocks one eyebrow and leans in close enough to make my breath hitch. "Don't worry, Swan. I don't bite…"

I forget all about my friends and his brother and let my eyes slide shut as he leans in even more, his teeth brushing my exposed neck when he chuckles softly and adds, " _much_."

 _Oh, fuck._

 **~ i ~**

" _Cullen_ , shit…"

I tip my head back, swallowing hard as his lips trail over my neck and his teeth nip the soft skin over my jugular.

 _This wasn't supposed to happen._

One dance. That was all I had to do to stop myself getting in shit with my dad.

And yet...here I am three hours later in the back of Edward's mom-car, his mouth on my neck and his hand sneaking up my dress.

"Mm, you taste like strawberries."

His voice rumbles through me, his breath cool on my skin from the coke he's been drinking at the diner. Being the designated driver sucks—I'm glad the girls, Eric, and I drew straws.

"It's my... _oh, God..._ my perfume."

My head is fluffy and I feel almost weightless.

 _Turns out Bree's second baggie of weed was a lot stronger than the first. She stole it from her brother, she admitted when Jess_ — _the most seasoned smoker of us all_ — _coughed and asked where she got it._

The windows are all steamed up, so I can't see outside, but I know we're somewhere between the diner and home because we were on our way back there when he pulled over and asked if he could try something.

 _If I'd known that the 'something' was kissing me, would I have insisted he carry on driving?_

My limbs are heavy and deliciously relaxed thanks to the joint we smoked in the parking lot next to the park after eating our weight in diner food, but everywhere Edward touches feels electrified. We're all groping hands, panted breaths, and drugging kisses as we shuffle down in the backseat so he's resting over me on all fours, his chest pressed against mine and his hands in my hair as he holds my mouth to his and tastes the remnants of caramel Oreo milkshake on my tongue.

He tastes sweet and feels like heaven against me, but I want…

"What do you want, Bella?"

 _Oh, god…_

He never calls me 'Bella'—it's always 'Swan.'

My name has never sounded better than it does in his rumbling voice against my lips.

Weightless but heavy with need, I fumble with the buttons of his shirt and insist he takes it off. The heat of his body disappears as he sits back on his haunches, having to duck a little because he's too tall, and he grins darkly at me the whole time he unfastens buttons.

My eyes aren't sure where to go, but they follow his fingers and the skin they reveal. I've seen him shirtless before, but not up close. He's toned and lean; fit from playing football since our freshman year.

Without my permission, my hands reach up to stroke the soft skin stretched over hard muscle. A shiver ripples through me. With an eye roll, I answer the question I can see hovering on his lips before he can ask it.

"Yes, I like what I see."

He barks a laugh and tosses his shirt in the front seat, lowering himself back on top of me with that goddamn smirk. One of his hands holds him up while he walks the other from my thigh, over my hip, my stomach, my chest..to my jaw, where he cradles my face and runs the pad of his thumb over my lip. It's embarrassing how shaky I am when I suck in a breath. What is this boy doing to me? I mean, shit—I don't even like him!

"I'm not gonna sleep with you!" I blurt out. A rush of embarrassment heats my cheeks. It only worsens when Edward loses his broodysmoulder and bursts out laughing, dropping his head to rest it on my chest. I stifle a groan and the urge to slap myself.

' _I'm not gonna sleep with you'? What is wrong with you, Bella?_

"Oh, Swan." He raises his head, peering into my eyes with his pretty green gaze— _whoa; pretty?_ —and twists his lips into a sort of half-smile. "One day, we're gonna look back on this night and tell everyone this is where it all began, you know that?"

I furrow my brows and figure defense is the best offence. Winding my fingers into his hair, I tug a little until his lips are close enough to catch and brush off his serious promise.

What does he know? He's disappearing to wherever-the-fuck in the fall to play football, and I'll be here, probably taking a few classes at the community college because I have no idea what I want to do with my life.

We're just kids. We don't even like each other. This—tonight—is just your typical cliché prom night and by tomorrow, this weird, sweet and funny Edward will be out of my head and we can go on with our lives only seeing each other when he visits his folks for the holidays.


	3. You To Me Are Everything

**You wonderful people have blown me away with the love you've already shown this tale.  
I'm really enjoying writing it despite the angst, and I'm glad you're enjoying reading it so far!  
I promise, all of your questions will be answered, but if you want spoilers, shoot me a message.  
Fair warning though-there are some things even I don't know the answers to just yet, so bear that  
in mind.**

 **However, I _can_ now say without a doubt that this WILL be an Edward x Bella HEA.**

 **I'm making this my National Novel Writing Month project for this year. The aim is to write  
50k words in the thirty days of November, so you can probably expect frequent updates at least  
throughout November. I've got chapter four almost done, so that should be up at the beginning of  
next week, if not at the end of this weekend.**

 **Much love and many thanks to all of you xo**

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognisable characters; those are all Stephanie Meyer's.  
No copyright infringement is intended.

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

 **Dandelions**

 **You To Me Are Everything**

 _ **May 2018...picking up at the end of chapter one...**_

By the time we pull up outside Mom and Dad's, I've managed to tidy up my face with the wet wipes I keep in my purse. I only look semi-presentable and there's no way my parents won't know I've been crying, but there's nothing I can do about my reddened eyes, the shakes making my body tremble every time I think about Edward, or how I'm going to explain to our children that we're not going home to their daddy.

Tipping the driver for putting up with my sniffling the entire way, I quickly slide from the backseat and bounce on the balls of my feet as I wait for him to open the trunk. I'm in no hurry to get inside and face the Spanish inquisition, but he's obviously in a rush to get rid of me; honestly, I don't blame him.

"Thank you," I murmur, gathering the cases and stepping onto the gravel path leading to the front door. Just before I knock to announce my arrival, I realize something that didn't occur to me until now.

 _If my appearance doesn't tell my parents that something's wrong, the suitcases will._

It's too late to think of a cover story though, because I barely have time to open the door before bare little feet are slapping the hardwood floor and three sweet voices are calling "Mama!"

My broken heart gives a hard thump as I let the cases go and sink to my knees to catch my babies. Sadie reaches me first, swiftly followed by her brothers, and for a moment, their arms wrapping around my torso knit me back together. There's no better feeling than this; nothing beats the embrace of my babies. For the longest time, I didn't think being a mother was something I'd ever get to experience. Months of negative pregnancy tests, gruelling examinations, and agonizing waiting culminated in the most heartbreaking doctor's appointment. That doctor, Dr. Price...I'll always remember his kind face and the way he squeezed my hand as I broke down.

 _I'm terribly sorry, Bella, Edward. It's not good news._

Infertile. That's what he said. Both of us, for one reason or another, are incapable of creating the longed-for child we dreamed of. I remember looking at Edward through a waterfall of tears and wondering how we'd ever get through it, but we did. We _did._ And eight months later, we attended our first adoption information evening.

Two years to the day after that gut-wrenching appointment with Dr. Price, Edward and I drove, for three hours, with our hearts in our throats and tears in our eyes to the other side of Kent. There, at a busy hospital, we met up with our wonderful social worker Shelley. She showed us to the special care baby unit, talking a mile-a-minute in that way she always did, until neither of us could focus on a single word out of her mouth because _there_ , right in front of us in a nurse's arms, was our sweet baby girl. She was tiny and being monitored heavily because of her eight-weeks-early arrival into the world, but Sadie was perfect.

Down the hall, in a waiting room with their own social worker, were her shy big brothers—two years old at the time, Jace and Dillan refused to speak to us for almost an hour before their curiosity got the better of them. I'll never be able to stifle the emotion that bubbles up in my stomach when I remember the shock on Edward's face as Jace and Dillan hugged him for the first time. People in the adoption circles talk about that moment—the moment you just _know_ that this is your child. That day, as Jace and Dillan threw their arms around Edward, he peered at me over his shoulder and our tear-filled eyes conveyed our sheer joy at finding our children.

Biological parents talk about the moment their baby held their finger for the first time or looked into their eyes...we didn't have those things, not in the same way, but I know neither me or Edward would change our babies or the way we became parents. It was a long, tough road, but my God, was it worth it.

Bringing them home the following week, and Sadie two weeks after that, I'd never felt such overwhelming love and completeness. Our family was finally, _finally_ , full thanks to the blessing of adoption. My babies, _our_ babies...they're my world. It kills me that breaking their hearts is inevitable; they're never going to just accept that Mama and Daddy aren't together anymore. They giggle when Edward tells me he loves me in his silly monster voice and cover their eyes when we kiss. They know we love each other…

Three years of seeing and believing that can't be undone in one day.

With their little hands grabbing at me and their warmth filling me to the brim, they ask a million questions. One hits me like a punch to the gut— _where's Daddy?_

I pull back, kissing each of their faces in turn to stall, but I'm saved from having to answer—for now, at least—by Mom's voice.

"What did I say about attacking your mama the moment she walked through the door?" She sighs, a fond smile on her face as she tucks her tea towel into the band of her floral apron and leans in the doorway.

"Uh, to do it?" Jace asks cheekily.

"No, silly pants," Sadie giggles, wriggling her arms around my torso so that when I stand, she's still clinging to me. Twisting a lock of my hair around her pinky, she rests her head against my shoulder and blows a raspberry at her brother. "Nana say _no_ 'tacking Mama."

Dillan reaches up to tug his little sister's slipper-clad foot. "Well how come you jumped on her first, Sadie bear?"

She thinks about it for a second. "I'm a pwincess, duh."

Shaking my head, I smile and boop her button nose. Forever my little sassy-pants, this girl is going to be the wild child of the trio, that's for sure. "All right, Princess Sadie, how about we find your jacket and shoes, huh? Do you think you can manage that without servants?"

Sadie finds this hilarious, her tinkling laughter warming me to the core. "Silly Mama. Dilly an' Jay are my serfants."

I press a hard kiss to my daughter's blonde curls, very aware that Mom is staring at me with increasingly furrowed brows, before setting her down on her own two feet.

"Go on, baby. You too, boys. Shoes, jackets, and loveys, please."

As soon as Jace, Sadie, and Dillan take off up the stairs, Mom asks the other question I've been dreading. "What's wrong, what's happened?"

A lump lodges itself firmly in my throat, my heart beating so hard I start to feel faint. Luckily, the stairs are only a few feet away; I sink onto the bottom step, sucking in deep breaths. I can hear my babies chattering away to each other upstairs. They're content and carefree. Happy.

 _For now_.

Tears prickle my eyes. At the same time, Mom gasps, so I know she's seen the suitcases and has a good idea of why I'm barely holding myself together.

"Oh, sweetheart…"

The agony of having her comfort me makes the balloon of guilt in my chest expand to the point that I'm not sure it's a good idea for me to take the babies anywhere. It kills me to admit it, but it might be better for them to stay with my parents just for the night, just so I can get myself sorted and in a more stable state of mind.

"It's a mess, Mom," I sniffle, chewing my lip to stop the silent sobs shaking my chest from turning into loud ones. "Everything's such a mess and I don't know...I don't know what to do."

"Come here. Oh, sweetheart."

It's obvious that she doesn't know what to say, either. I don't know whether that's better than her peppering me with questions or not. I don't really know what to say, but it feels like the words _it's over_ are going to explode out of me. When we were kids, people told us not to count on being together forever. People warned us that seventeen-year-olds grow into vastly different adults; that our wants and needs would shift and there was no guarantee we'd still fit together like we did then. We told them they were fools and brushed off their concerns, because _of course_ we'd still fit together. We were so foolish naive thinking that nothing bad would ever happen to us; that nothing would change the shape of our relationship.

I can't help but picture our younger selves at prom. I was so sure that he'd drop me home and forget all about me; the Chief's misfit daughter he made out with after prom and never thought of again. When he showed up on my porch the following morning, bright-eyed and asking if he could take me to breakfast, I couldn't believe my bleary eyes. Hungover and stunned stupid, I didn't agree until my mom giddily informed Edward that he could wait in the kitchen for me. She's since admitted that she was just glad to see me finally acting like a 'normal teenager' and interacting with boys.

Over the course of that summer, Edward took every opportunity to prove my assumptions about him wrong.

Far from the stereotypical, popular rich kid I thought him to be, he was sweet and funny and made me laugh more than anyone I'd ever met. We spent overcoast summer's days riding Emmett's fixer-upper motorcycles on La Push beach, and when I had tonsillitis in August, just weeks before Edward had to leave for Florida State University, he put off his departure to nurse my whiny ass. Not even Mom's fussing made me feel better.

But Edward's goofy grin and chopsticks up his nose as he tried to coax me to eat some chicken noodle soup...that did it. He was my rock, even though I was already preparing myself for him to abandon me when he headed off to college. I was so in love with him it was ridiculous. My head was full of dreams of what our life together would be like if he didn't find some blonde, tan cheerleader down in Florida.

I never needed to worry, as it turns out. He was always faithful and called me as often as his tough schedule allowed. Mom was the voice of reason back then, reminding me of how devoted Edward was and how we had a loving relationship built on friendship and trust.

And now...now I'm here, facing the hardest trial of my life, my mom once again soothing my frayed nerves only this time I'm not sure Edward and I can rely on phone calls and as-often-as-possible visits to save our relationship.

For now though, her arm around my shoulders and the gentle strokes of her hand through my hair is enough to keep the breakdown at bay.

 **~ i ~**

When the time comes to leave, Mom points out that she has a spare bedroom and won't charge me a fortune for a last-minute booking, like a hotel will, so I hesitantly agree to stay there with the children. The idea isn't a bad one, per se, it's just that I've never stayed over with them before, and I know they're going to wonder why they're not only having another sleepover with Nana and Grampa, but that I'm also going to be staying—without their daddy. In the end, it's thoughts of how the children will react to a hotel that makes my decision for me.

Jace and Dillan frown at me when I tell them the new plan, while Sadie squeals and leaps into her nana's arms.

"Why are we staying here again? Why are _you_ staying, too? Is Daddy coming? Are we going home tomorrow?"

Crouching, I cup Jace's face between my palms and remind him to take a deep breath. He follows my instructions, offering me a bashful little smile to go with his furrowed brows. Surprises and sudden alterations of the schedule are tough for my little guy.

He was almost four years old when we received his official autism diagnosis, although the social workers taking care of him before he came home with us had suspected it right from the start. As well as his ASD, Jace also struggles with SPD—sensory processing disorder. Things like labels inside his clothes and having his hair cut are a big deal to Jace. They're overwhelming and overstimulating, so we have to be super careful with the clothes we buy and the places we take him, just because it's not always easy to calm him down if something sets him off.

Like now, for instance, he's wringing his hands and avoiding eye contact with me. I know that if I don't reassure him, he may go into full-blown meltdown, which is something we avoid at all costs.

"Jace, baby, listen to me. Everything is okay, we're just going to stay with Nana and Grampa for another two nights, okay?"

"T-two nights?"

Chewing my lip, I see Mom mouthing something to me over his shoulder.

 _For however long you need._

"We might be here longer, but as soon as I know, I'll tell you."

Preparation is key for my boy, but I have no idea how that's going to work in this situation. I don't know what's going to happen or how to handle any of this, but I'm determined to do my best. It's not Jace's fault—or Dillan's or Sadie's—that this is happening.

Discomfort is clear as day on his little face and I wish I could make him feel better. It kills me to see him struggle, and in my heart of hearts, I know this is going to get worse before it gets better.

There's nothing normal about this mess—nothing normal about his parents splitting up, if that's what this is.

"Do we get to have pizza and ice cream again if we're staying at Nana and Grampa's for more nights?" Dillan asks hopefully, twisting side-to-side on the bar stool at the breakfast bar.

Mom smiles, reaching out to squeeze his cheek. "You sure do, little love." Facing me and Jace, Mom cocks her head and opens her arms to him. "How does pizza and ice cream sound, Jay?"

Still worried, but less so now that he has some idea of what to expect, Jace smiles shakily and edges into my arms instead. I welcome his cuddle and mouth my thanks to Mom, who isn't offended by Jace's snub. He's a mama's boy when he's upset, and she knows that.

Blowing out a big breath, I mentally cross my fingers and ask Sadie if she's okay with staying at Nana and Grampa's again. Her cheerful 'yep' is as simple as it is sweet to this emotionally wrought mama's ears. She beams toothily from her spot in the nook, coloring in her new colouring book, and wonders if she can have a snack before dinner.

Shaking her head fondly, Mom pulls the snack basket from under the counter and tells the children they can each pick one treat to eat while they watch a movie in the playroom. Satisfied with their choices, Jace, Dillan, and Sadie tear down the hall to watch _Finding Dory_ for what's probably the millionth time. As soon as they're gone, Mom turns to me.

"Bella, honey, I know you don't want me to pry—and trust me, I don't want to butt in—but…" she trails off, a sad frown on her face, and I can see all her worry and questions gazing back at me from within the depths of her blue eyes.

"Mom, I…" The words get lodged in my throat. I cough, chewing my lip as I turn my gaze away and watch the apple tree outside the window sway in the breeze. We've spent so many summers here, picking apples from those boughs and having water fights on the lawn. It's a happy, family home despite the fact that both Alex and I were adults by the time Mom and Dad moved here.

I can't help but compare it to my home just fifteen minutes away, which, in recent months, has become more like a bed and breakfast where Edward and I cross paths occasionally.

We've been on the wrong track for a long time, Edward and I. It's just taken a while for me to realize it.

 _A while and a stupid mistake fuelled by rosé and loneliness._

Mom's fingers twining with mine pull me from my head. I peer into her gently encouraging face and try to imagine what she'll say when I tell her everything. The whole truth, no holds barred. I picture myself being completely honest and laying everything out on the table.

But I can't do it. I can't look into my mom's eyes and see the crushing disappointment I know I deserve.

So I lie.

I smile through the pain and tell her that Edward and I are just taking some time apart.

I force myself to reassure her that everything is fine and we'll work through this, whatever _this_ is.

I plaster a smile on my face and manage to laugh when Dad comes home from golfing with his pals, the children falling about laughing at his multi-colored polo and trousers.

And I pretend my heart isn't shattering into a thousand pieces when, at bedtime, my babies sob because they miss their daddy, but his cell goes straight to answerphone and our house phone rings off every time I call.

 **~ oOo ~**

The spare room is shrouded in darkness when I hear the soft _click_ of the door opening. Thanks to the dim light sneaking through the gap between the door frame and the open door, I can see exactly who it is; the lamp in the hall makes my boy's blond hair glow.

"Are you okay, Jay?"

He takes that as his invitation to run across the room and climb into my bed. It's a twin, so there isn't a whole lot of room. Thankfully, neither of us are very big, and we don't mind snuggling. With my baby tucked against my chest, his hand winding its way up until I feel his fingertips playing with the ends of my hair, I can finally release a long sigh without feeling as though I'm falling apart at the seams.

"I want to go home, Mama," he murmurs.

Choked up, I stroke his hair and stare at the ceiling. This used to be the room reserved for grandchildren until Alex and Vanessa had their second son—their boys, Alexander and Aaron, are five- and two-years old now—and we adopted Jace, Dillan, and Sadie. There are still a few, stubborn glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling; proof that Dad doesn't always practice what he preaches and sometimes, even grown-ups give up when the going gets tough.

 _Oh, the irony._

The grandchildren share the bigger of the two spare bedrooms now. Just down the hall, my parents have created a child-friendly haven complete with built-in bunk beds and enough toys to keep their five grandchildren entertained when they stay over.

 _But it's not home._

I want to tell Jace that I want to go home, too. I want to snatch him up, scoop his brother and sister from their beds, and take them home to their daddy. I want to pretend that our marriage is as perfect as we always hoped it would be.

But then, in the next breath, I want to curl up and cry until my lungs burn and my eyes can't shed another tear. I want to release the misery slowly expanding in my chest to the point that every breath hurts. And I want, more than anything, to have my family whole and happy again. I feel splintered. My heart has fractured into jagged pieces and every beat is an agonizing reminder that my life is falling apart. The perfect life I dreamed of isn't so perfect after all.

The guilt and pain intensifies when I remind myself that this is my fault. _I_ left. _I_ made that choice. It wasn't a decision I took lightly, but there was nothing else left; no other options that would have ended well. I've been fighting so hard to keep our marriage afloat, but there are only so many waves I can conquer.

I could only keep us from submerging for so long, and my strength has finally run out.

"Why didn't Daddy answer his phone, Mama?" Jace asks softly.

Blowing out a long breath, I try to stop myself from internally cursing Edward. I _know_ he's hurting; I am, too. This isn't easy for any of us, but I don't have the option to hide. When the children tiredly cried for their daddy's goodnight phone call, I almost broke down and drove them home to see him. Overtired and overwhelmed by their surprise, extra couple of nights at Nana and Grampa's, Jace, Dillan, and Sadie were teary-eyed, red-faced babies when Mom, Dad, and I put them to bed earlier this evening.

As a parent, it was without a doubt one of the worst evenings of my life.

Emotionally and physically spent, I eventually stumbled into the spare bedroom after rocking Sadie to sleep in the glider in the children's room. She went down easily enough, barely stirring as I gently tugged off her slippers and tucked her into the lower bunk bed below Dillan. Glancing over Jace at the bedside clock, I realize it's already been several hours since then and I've spent them lying in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Daddy is busy working, sweetheart..."

Jace sighs; he's heard that excuse a million times before. The words taste bitter. You'd think I'd be used to their flavor by now, seeing as it's an oft-repeated sentence as of late. I'm used to saying it, but I'll never get used to the disappointment on the faces of my babies when they have to hear it.

"We'll try him again tomorrow, okay? You know Daddy loves you."

With a soft hum, Jace wriggles around to get comfortable. "Will you sing me the song? The one Daddy plays on the guitar?"

The sudden sting of tears in my eyes puts a lump in my throat. "Of course, sweetheart."

Clearing my throat, I push the image of Edward playing for the children from my mind and concentrate on the gentle rise and fall of Jace's chest against mine as I sing quietly, stroking my fingers through his hair to keep myself centered.

" _I would take the stars out of the sky for you.  
Stop the rain from falling if you asked me to.  
I'd do anything for you, your wish is my command.  
I could move a mountain when your hand is in my hand."_

We danced to this song at our wedding. It wasn't our first dance song—I can't even think of that right now if I want to keep any of my composure—but it was later that night, after many of our guests had said their goodbyes and headed home. We were the only couple left on the dance floor, a few friends and family members loitering and supervising the clean-up crew. The band was all packed up, but music played through the speakers beside the stage. When we both heard the first gentle strains of _The Real Thing_ 's song, we smiled at each other. Edward pulled me over onto the dance floor, leading me around and singing the lyrics into my ear as I giggled into his chest, delirious with love and light and happiness.

Remembering those moments, those wonderful minutes of carefree, newlywed bliss, socks me in the gut like a sledgehammer.

" _Oh you to me are everything, the sweetest song  
that I could sing.  
Oh baby, oh baby.  
To you I guess I'm just a clown,  
Who picks you up each time you're down.  
Oh baby, oh baby."_

When we first brought Sadie home, she was colicky. Every night for three months, Edward and I took turns walking through the bottom of the house with her. One night, a couple of weeks after we brought her home, I couldn't sleep so I decided to join Edward and Sadie downstairs. It was still dark outside, still early in the morning, so I was surprised to find him in an armchair in the living room, Sadie content in her bouncer by his feet and his beloved old acoustic in his hands. Even now, three years later, I can perfectly picture his sweet smile and the wink he shot me as he seamlessly continued singing.

" _You give me just a taste of love to  
Build my hopes upon.  
You know you got the power boy,  
To keep me holding on.  
So now you got the best of me,  
Come on and take the rest of me.  
Oh baby."_

Crooning it to our boy now, feeling the way he's drifting off to sleep to the sound of one of Edward's favorite songs, makes me both happy and sad.

Happy, because I'm glad Jace can take comfort from something so simple and joyful; sad, because it's his beloved daddy's refusal to pick up the phone this evening that has him feeling even more on edge than he was before.

Annoyance bites at me as I attempt to follow Jace into unconsciousness, his slow breaths soothing in the otherwise silent room. I understand Edward not wanting to speak to me—but to ignore his children? There's no excuse. I can't help but be mad at him. Just because our mistakes have led us here, to this point, doesn't mean our children should have to suffer any unnecessary hurt.

It takes another hour, but as I finally manage to slip into a restless slumber, I make a silent promise to Edward that he can have the weekend before I go to the house and demand answers for his behavior. Hopefully, it won't come to that. Hopefully, when the children ask to speak to him tomorrow morning, he'll pick up.

I can't afford to be dragged under by the tsunami of grief hovering just off-shore, so right now, hope is all I have left.

At one time, Edward...he really was my everything, and I was his. We just lost each other somewhere along the way.

* * *

 ***peeks through eyes* ...are you still with me?**

 **The song Bella sings at the end is** The Real Thing **'s** _You To Me Are Everything_ — **a personal favourite of mine.**


	4. I Fall, We Fall

**Hey there, gang! Firstly, I want to apologise for not getting to your reviews on the last couple of  
** **chapters. As you already know, this is my National Novel Writing Month project (so I've got to write 50k  
** **words in 30 days, essentially). I figured you'd rather have another chapter than review replies, so...here ya  
** **go.**

 **Thank you to everyone for taking the time to read, review, and pimp this angst-fest of mine. I had a major fangirl  
moment this week when Dandelions was recc'd over at The Lemonade Stand, which has always been my go-to  
for fanfic recs. Thank you, TLS ladies!**

 **As promised, the angst continues *eek* but as I said on Facebook, this WILL have a HEA and it WILL be an  
Edward x Bella HEA, even though it may not seem like it at times. Remember that, please ;)**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognisable characters; those are all Stephanie Meyer's.  
No copyright infringement is intended.

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

 **Dandelions**

 **I Fall, We Fall**

 _ **May 2018…**_

I keep my promise to leave Edward be for the rest of the weekend, save for my attempts to call him—which all go unanswered, much to my increasing worry and to our children's frustration.

Mom and Dad are my saving grace. I can't even think about work, despite important deadlines looming; my mind is all over the place. I can barely concentrate on any one thought for longer than a few minutes, so on Saturday evening, Mom points me towards the stairs and reminds me that she keeps all her pampering stuff in the storage baskets beside the bath.

At some point soon, I'll have to think about updating the blog I started when we discovered we're unable to have biological children. It started out as a venting platform; just somewhere I could write my thoughts and feelings so they didn't fester within me. Over time, it became somewhere other men and women came to find comfort and solidarity. When our adoption journey began, my following grew. Family and friends supported us, of course, but the love and advice we received from other people in our position, people from all over the world, was invaluable.

 _Our Missing Pieces_ has become a big part of our lives—well, mine in particular. I blog as often as I can, sharing updates about our journey as adoptive parents, as Americans living in England, and as a husband and wife figuring this thing out together. We're occasionally sent products to try out and review—it started with a twin stroller when we adopted Jace, Dillan, and Sadie. Most recently, we were sent a selection of healthy, organic children's snacks in the shapes of animals.

Incidentally, the kids adore them, so I'm pretty certain they're going to become a staple on our grocery list.

When I'm not chasing after the children or writing for the blog, I'm a freelance photographer. In a way, the timing of all this is helpful. It's coincided with the two weeks I'd already booked off. Despite my schedule being fairly flexible, I like to take time off to completely focus on myself and my family; that's what this week was supposed to be about. I have another seven days to get my life in some sort of order before I'm back in my little studio on Monday, taking photos of a one-year-old's cake smash. Resting my head against the back of the bath, I close my eyes and let the steam clear my head. For now, I don't have to think about failed marriages, wayward husbands, cake smash set-ups, or the ache in my chest. For now, I can just breathe.

While I soak in my misery, Mom and Dad keep Jace, Dillan, and Sadie entertained with cake-baking, followed by a trip to the park to feed the ducks on Sunday morning and a steady stream of smiles and fun.

It isn't easy, but I manage to persuade the children that Edward is working away and must not have good cell reception; they record video messages for me to send to him instead, so he'll know they were thinking of him while he was working hard. Their sad faces and guilt-trip attempts make me doubt my resolve to wait until Monday to check on him, but I tell myself we can both use this time to sort out our thoughts and emotions so that when we see each other, it isn't quite so crushing.

What do I know, though, really? I like to think some time will give me a sense of objectivity and calmness, but of course, that's not how it works.

The second I roll to a stop outside our house, I feel tears welling in my eyes and my stomach begins to churn. Nerves burn hot, and my heart takes off at speed. The slam of the car door is deafening; I flinch, sucking in a deep breath. The street is deserted, everyone already off to work or school. I dropped Jace and Dillan at their classroom this morning, leaving Sadie with Dad when Mom set off to the preschool where she works part-time—it's also where Sadie goes two mornings a week.

The driveway feels miles long as I head for the front door, wondering what, exactly, I'll find. I left a message last night and another this morning to tell Edward I'd be here after the school run, but the curtains are all drawn.

My key is in the lock and I'm stepping inside before I have a chance to wonder if I should have knocked.

Quiet.

 _No,_ it's not just quiet. It's silent. Almost eerily so.

This house...it's very rarely this devoid of noise. The children are usually running around or Edward is humming to himself. Well, he used to, anyway. It drove me mad for a little while, but like all his other habits, the humming grew on me.

Once, a long time ago, I was so sure he'd just be the high school quarterback I made out with after prom.

 _How wrong was I?_

We've had an amazing life together, for the most part.

 _Until you ruined it_ , says a small voice in the back of my mind.

I shake it off, steeling myself as I call out for Edward and head to the kitchen. Everything is...exactly as I left it. I don't know what I expected, really. Mess, maybe? Proof that the house is lived in?

Swallowing an odd, sudden bout of foreboding, I step into the living area. The sight that greets me there makes me feel sick and dizzy with worry. There's a photo album open on the sofa—even from the doorway, I can see that it's our wedding album. The TV is off but the radio plays quietly in the corner, the presenters chatting away about some competition or another. I cross the room to switch it off, sighing when I turn and immediately spot something that makes my heart ache.

An almost-empty bottle of whisky stands like a silent sentry on the coffee table. The lid is nowhere to be seen, and there's a smashed glass on the floor.

It's the tumbler that has a caricature of his face etched into the glass as well as the word _Groom_. Well, it used to, anyway. Now it's a collection of broken shards scattered over the living room rug.

Memories of raised voices and bloodshot eyes dance behind my eyelids as I squeeze them shut and shake off the onslaught of terror that slinks into my gut. Forcing them back open, I mentally prepare myself for whatever I'll find upstairs. Taking the stairs one at a time, I call his name softly, but it doesn't surprise me when there's no answer. In the back of my mind, I already know what I'll find—and I'm not wrong. Reaching the doorway, tears pool on my lashes and sadness mixes with sympathy.

The curtains are drawn, dust motes floating in the sliver of light sneaking between them. When I left here on Friday afternoon, the canvas immortalizing our first dance as husband and wife hung above the bed; I spot it now, lying face-down against the carpet across the room. On the bedside table stands an empty bottle of Jim Beam—the bottle Alex and Vanessa gave him on our wedding anniversary last month. They gave me a bottle of prosecco and a box of my favorite chocolates.

I suppose I should have expected this; I should have expected him to return to his old friends, Jack and Jim.

Sprawled out on the bed, snoring softly, is my husband. He's wearing the threadbare sweatpants I've been trying to persuade him to throw out for months, and nothing else. My eyes can't help but be drawn to the tattoo that covers his shoulder blades. It's a stunning, bold piece that took five long sessions, but Edward says it was worth the money and the pain.

The large, black and white compass spans almost two-thirds of the top half of his back, and the quote 'family is the compass that guides me' is written in a beautiful rolling script across the remaining third. In the center of the compass are four names— _Isabella, Jace, Dillan, Sadie_.

I know that, should he turn over, there is more ink etched into his skin. A week after we signed the adoption order to make Jace, Dillan, and Sadie official members of our family, Edward had the words 'My family is my strength and my weakness. Through them I rise, and only through them shall I fall' written over his heart. It takes up his entire left pectoral; I've kissed those words a thousand times. The children love to trace them with their tiny fingers.

The fury that was temporarily quenched by my nerves when I arrived ignites once more, the flames fanned by the falseness of his tattoo. The words he wears proclaim that we, his family, are his everything, yet for so long we've been second on his list of priorities. His afterthought. Even now, when I hoped leaving might make him realize what he's been missing out on, he's chosen his troublesome old friends over picking up the phone to his children.

 _Enough is enough._

Throwing the curtains open, I stifle the guilt elicited by Edward's groan. For some reason, his running gear is in a haphazard pile on the floor by the window, so I scoop it into the laundry basket and rest it on my hip as I turn to watch Edward roll onto his back, blinking at me with furrowed brows and a wince.

"Bella?" his voice is scratchy and hoarse, but it still makes my heart pound. I've missed hearing it. We've never gone three days without talking; not since prom night all those years ago.

"Do you know what time it is?"

He squints at the ceiling, rubbing his burgeoning beard. It looks like shaving fell off the schedule when I left, too. "I don't...why are you here?"

Stifling a scream of frustration, I force my voice not to waver as I tell him I left two messages to say I'd be coming over to talk. He admits that his phone died, but that doesn't explain why he didn't get the message I left on the answer machine downstairs. Then it clicks...he's been too drunk to check the messages. Sympathy wars with my anger, but in the end, the sympathy wins. He may be an ass, but he's still my husband. I still care, even if he doesn't.

Setting the laundry basket on the floor, I head into the en-suite and switch on the shower before gathering a fresh towel from the closet and setting it on the counter with his razor, a fresh blade, and a clean flannel. As steam slowly starts to fill the room, I head back into the bedroom and immediately find myself hit with a strange sense of deja vu. Edward's sitting up now, in the exact spot I left him on Friday.

"I put out a towel and a fresh blade for your razor," I tell him softly. "I'll be downstairs when you're ready."

He nods and sighs, a long, heaving breath that shakes his whole body, and I wish I could see his face, but it's covered by his hands.

This time, as I leave the room, I look back.

I'm just in time to watch him shake his head and brush tears from his cheeks.

 **~ i ~**

It's odd, sitting in my kitchen alone knowing my marriage has ended.

Before I came over this morning, I had hope. It eclipsed the ache in my heart and the fear that we'd run our course. Arriving here and seeing Edward in that state, bloodshot eyes and alcohol burned voice and all, I see that I was wrong to be so hopeful. In a way his behavior has vindicated my decision to leave three days ago and proven to me that he's given up on us.

How could I stay when he's already been gone so long?

My priority has been the children, while his has been to drink himself into a stupor.

Gazing out at the swingset in our yard, I wonder when the end really began, and find that I can pinpoint the exact minute in time that we were doomed.

.

.

" _I'm so sorry to have to tell you this over the phone, Mrs. Cullen, but there's been an accident."_

" _A-an accident? What happened?" My blood runs cold as I grab my keys from the island with my shaking free hand; the other white-knuckles my phone. "Is it Edward? Is he okay? Oh, God...are my babies okay?"_

 _The paramedic told me her name when I picked up the call, but I can't remember it. She pauses before admitting, "We're en-route to the Eastbourne District General Hospital now, Ma'am, but I'd suggest you get there as quickly as safely possible."_

 _The soul-crushing minutes between that phone call and the moment I arrive at the hospital are some of the worst of my entire life. Somehow, I manage to drive to the DGH without remembering the journey at all. My brain is full of all the worst possible scenarios, my heart aching at the thought of any of them being in pain. The paramedic didn't tell me what had happened, just that there had been an accident. That could mean anything, couldn't it? All I can do is pray they're okay. I don't know what I'll do if they're not._

 _I park the car haphazardly, not bothering with a parking pass for the windshield in my rush to get inside and get answers. The receptionist in A &E is white-faced when I breathlessly tell her my name and that I'm here for Edward, Jace, Dillan, and Sadie Cullen._

 _My little family, all here somewhere, possibly in pain and needing me._

 _It's a miracle I don't pass out as she gently leads me into a side room and asks me to wait a minute while she fetches a doctor._

 _A minute turns into five. My racing heart makes me shake, my fingers so tight around the stuffed turtle on my car key-ring that they begin to protest. It was a present from Edward and a souvenir from our honeymoon trip to the Dominican Republic._

 _As I stand to see if the receptionist has forgotten about me, a doctor with furrowed brows and a look of steely, sad determination steps into the room._

" _Mrs. Cullen?"_

 _Swallowing hard, I nod. "Th-that's me. My husband, my children..."_

" _They're all alive, Mrs. Cullen_. _" It's both the scariest and best sentence I'd ever heard. I was hoping for 'they're all okay,' or 'it was all a big mistake, your family is fine.'_

' _They're all alive' insinuates they almost weren't, and that petrifies me. My body locks into place as I hold my breath and listen to the doctor explaining my worst nightmare._

" _I'm afraid there was a car accident involving your family and another vehicle, Mrs. Cullen."_

" _Your children have mostly minor injuries_ — _they'll heal with time and a little help. One of your boys will need surgery to repair what we suspect is a break in his arm, but other than that, it's bumps and bruises."_

" _Your husband is in a serious condition, Mrs. Cullen. He's in surgery right now to repair his fractured hip, and he hit his head when the other car made impact. They were stationary, from what we've heard so far."_

 _The air rushes from my lungs as he reaches out to squeeze my shoulder, adding, "I would suggest that you contact his family and ask them to keep you company."_

 _I hear his unspoken words even though he clearly doesn't want to say them_ — _and so they're here if...if he doesn't make it._

 _._

 _._

Edward's footsteps on the stairs pull me from my memories.

We're the lucky ones. The people whose lives weren't completely destroyed by a freak car accident. The family of the man driving the other car...they weren't so lucky.

Appearing in the arch between the hall and the kitchen, Edward sniffs and rubs his now-clean-shaven jaw.

"I made coffee," I tell him, jumping up from my barstool to pour him a cup.

To my back, he says, "You don't...um, you don't need to do that. I can pour my own."

I slowly turn and sit back down, frowning as my eyes follow him across the room. "You're limping."

He freezes for a moment, _his_ back to _me_ now, before pouring himself a big mug of coffee. Fresh from the shower, his roughly-dried hair sticks up in a million different directions and his loose t-shirt clings to the places he didn't dry thoroughly. In a tee and a pair of basketball shorts, he looks younger than his thirty-one years, but when he turns to face me, wincing as his hip cracks loud enough for me to hear it some eight feet away, I know we've both aged more than we should have over this past weekend.

My hair is scraped back into a messy bun and I know my eyes are probably still red from the tears I shed in the shower this morning. It's the only place I'm alone; the only place I can let myself really feel without the children around. No matter what happens between Edward and I, the children will hopefully never have to see me cry over him. I never want to cloud their view of their daddy. They worship him, despite how absent he's been recently. I pray that never changes.

And Edward...he has bags under his eyes and a bone-weary tiredness about his movements. He looks years older than his true age, just like I'm sure I do. His hangover is doing him no favors, either. More pale than usual, his skin lacks its usual glow; I've always been jealous of his unfairly clear complexion.

"Is your hip bothering you?"

He's frowning, but Edward nods; just a quick dip of his chin. "I went for a run after you...you know."

I swallow hard. _After I left._

The smirk he wears is as fake as the chuckle that follows it. "Must've run eight or nine miles, I reckon. I pushed it too hard, that's all."

A sigh of frustration pushes past my lips before I can think to stifle it. "You've got to take care of yourself—"

"Look, did you really come over here to give me a lecture about my hip? I didn't think you'd care. I'm not your problem anymore, after all."

Tears prick my eyes as my stomach rolls. His accusation stings like the icy cold Forks winters.

That he thinks I wouldn't care he's hurting cuts me to the core. Of course I care. We may be having a hard time right now, and I know everything's falling apart, but that doesn't mean I don't still care about him. It doesn't mean I don't still _love_ him. My love for him has never waned, not once in all the years we've been together. I didn't know it was ever in question, although I guess it shouldn't surprise me that he wonders. I _did_ leave. And I know I broke his heart when I let wine cloud my mind and the weight of loneliness control my actions.

I broke my own, too—not that it changes anything.

"How could you…" I scoff and dash angry tears from my eyes. "How could you even _think_ that?"

Even though he's right in front of me, I can feel the canyon between us widening. His guard is well and truly up. It hurts to know that he's hiding his thoughts and emotions from me. We were never _that_ couple; not at the beginning at least. We were always honest with each other, even when it wasn't easy or painless.

Over a decade of marriage later and we're at the point where hiding things is the norm rather than the exception. It's gutting.

"You _left_ , Bella. You packed your bags and took our kids. What was I supposed to think?"

"I _had_ to leave, Edward, don't you see? What good was it doing us for me to stay? Last week, I saw you _awake_ for a total of about eight hours. The children saw you even less, and the times you _were_ here, you weren't exactly present."

Shaking his head, Edward looks away and leans back against the counter, gripping the marble top with tight hands. "Work's been crazy, you know that." His tone is gritty and bitter when he adds, "And it hasn't exactly been easy for me after you…"

A familiar ball of guilt slams into my chest and knocks the air from my lungs. "Edward…"

I'd like to say it's a cheap shot, but I deserve it. I deserve that comment and far more, I know.

For the first time since he came downstairs, I see real emotion on his face. He winces, reaching up to rub his tattooed chest. His wedding ring, the titanium band I placed there eleven years ago last month, glints in the sunlight flooding through the windows over the sink. My eyes drop to the thinner titanium band on my own hand; it sits beside the gorgeous sapphire engagement ring he proposed with when I visited him during summer break of his last year at college.

 _I want to spend the rest of my life annoying the crap out of you, Swan. Will you let me?_

It was the most unromantic proposal I'd ever heard, but it was perfect and undeniably _us_. When I said _yes_ and cried like a big baby as he slid the ring onto my finger, I pictured us growing old together, gray-haired and surrounded by our children and grandchildren. I pictured him getting to play football for a living while I raised our children and took photos part-time.

I never pictured _this_.

"Edward, it was a mistake—"

"I can't talk about this, Bella. I can't…" Edward screws up his face. Even from across the room, I can see the tears in his eyes.

"I don't _want_ to talk about it, Edward, but we have to get this sorted. If not for us, for Jace, Dillan, and Sadie." Sucking in a deep breath and squeezing my eyes shut against the threatening tears, I steel myself. "I'm sorry, Edward. I'm sorry I—"

I'm expecting him to cut me off with words; I'm not expecting the growl he releases or the sound of his hands slapping the countertop.

My eyes fly open. He's facing away from me again, leaning over the counter with his back bowed and his head down.

 _God, we're such a mess._

Despite the situation, the tension in the room, and the tatters of our relationship spread around the place, I leave my seat and only hesitate for a moment before resting my hand on his back—right over where I know my name is permanently drawn into his skin. His torso ripples with a shiver which travels up my arm and jump-starts my heart; it takes off at a gallop as he slowly turns to face me, holding my hand against its new spot at his chest.

The emerald green of his eyes is made a thousand times more intense by the tears all set to overflow. His lashes are heavy with them; weighted by the burden of the emotions he's battling to keep buried within. Through the thin material of his t-shirt, I feel the rhythmic, familiar _thump-thump-thump_ of his heart. An undeniable longing settles deep in my soul.

This man...he's home. He's the worn-soft sweater I slip into after a stressful day. He's the crackling fire in the hearth, my favorite movie queued up on the TV once the children are tucked into their beds, and the goofy smile when I walk into a room and forget what I'm there for.

But he's also the bitter pill I fight to swallow when I have to tell the children their daddy won't be home in time for goodnight kisses—again. He's the ebbing of joy when the meal I cooked for us goes cold on the dining table, and the snuffed-out candle when _I'll be home by six_ turns into falling asleep waiting up and finding him passed out on the sofa the following morning. He's the stab of guilt as I catch him watching me when he thinks I'm not looking, the love in his eyes tempered by the hints of doubt and _why?_

He's the bitter and the sweet; the love of my life, the man I swore I'd spend the rest of my life with, and the man I vowed to cherish above all others.

The man to whom I promised I'd be faithful for as long as we both shall live.

We both made promises the day we were married, and we've both broken some along the way.

A quiet whimper sneaks from between my lips as Edward reaches up with his free hand, trailing the pads of his fingers over my cheek, my chin, and up my jaw. They sneak around to the back of my neck as his head lowers. With our foreheads resting together, I watch his eyelids slide shut; I follow a solitary tear as it jumps ship and rolls slowly from his lashes to his chin. As it tumbles, his hand gives a gentle squeeze.

"Please, Bella. _Please_ don't make me talk about it. I can't...I can't bear it."

Nausea swirls like a tempest in my gut. The icy fingers of regret tighten around my heart, and I swallow convulsively. My bones ache with loneliness, yet he's right here.

"Edward, we need to talk about it," I finally whisper.

His thumb presses against the skin behind my ear; he rubs the spot over and over. A soothing motion. "Don't make me, Bella."

It's as much a plea as a demand, and that's what makes it so painful. He comes off as bossy and demanding, but I _know_ him. Or, this part of him, at least. There are so many facets of the Edward I've been seeing more and more of recently that are unfamiliar to me. In these few and far between moments we're here, together, just the two of us...he's _my_ Edward.

The stuck-up rich boy who turned out to be sweet, funny, and everything I didn't realize I wanted.

But then it happens. Something passes through that brain of his and the light dims from his eyes. The darkness of doubt is debilitating.

What makes it worse? Even then, even when he's remembering, I can see the love he holds for me. It's in the softness of his touch, the racing of his heart beneath our joined hands, and the whisper of an anguished sigh that caresses my face when I remind him that nothing good has ever come from keeping secrets bottled up.

We wear pain and regret like a second skin, but our hearts beat to the same rhythm. The sound, muffled though it may be, is louder than thunder and more distracting than lightning.

 _A perfect, terrifying storm._

I close my eyes against the tears that threaten when he tilts his head, brushing his lips along my temple and breathing a long sigh into my hair. Saltiness hits my lips as they part, searching…

But, suddenly, he's gone. I use my sleeves to dry my face as I watch him stalk away. He stops in front of the window overlooking our yard. Even with his broad shoulders in the way, I know he's looking out at the swingset our children rush to when they come home from school every day, the sandpit where we buried Edward up to his head last summer, and the apple tree we planted when we moved here.

We wanted to watch it grow with our family.

The sudden absence of his hands lets the cold in. I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself.

"What do you want me to do, huh?" he growls, raking a hand through his hair. "Do you want me to ask about it, Bella? Is that it? You want me to ask for details?"

"No, Edward, I just—" I choke out, _breaking, breaking, breaking_ inside.

Turning so I can see his profile, he asks, "Or do you want me to say 'oh, it's not that bad'? You want me to let you off the hook?"

Staring at his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes, I sigh. _What have I done to you? To_ us _?_ He's not blameless, but my actions were the straw that broke the back of this particular camel. The nagging voice of doubt points out that it would never have happened if not for Edward's own actions, but...there's no excuse. We've both done wrong here.

"I've never asked for you to let me off the hook, Edward," I murmur, emotion clogging my throat and tears cascading over my cheeks. I don't care enough to stop them.

"Maybe that's it. Maybe you did this to give me a reason to…" he trails off, shaking his head and gripping his hair hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

It feels like we're on a precipice; one little gust of wind and we'll both tumble over the edge.

"To what, Edward?" I ask, wondering if I really want the answer.

"To end this."

 _There's the gust of wind. I fall;_ we _fall._

* * *

 ***whistling innocently* Anyone still with me? *twiddles thumbs***


	5. Those Three Seconds

**Hey there! I'm way behind with where I wanted to be thanks to an impromptu kidney infection knocking me for six, but hey ho. Thank you, everyone, for your continued love and support! You're all the absolute best *big hugs and kisses***

 **Rebadams7, I loved your review on the last chapter so much I made it into a picture on Facebook. If you're on there, please come find me—Ciara Shayee. That goes for anyone else, too!**

 **I just want to say...this chapter will give you some of the answers you've been waiting for... tissue warning, just in case. Also, please stow your pitchforks and knives—yes, May, that means you! ;)— here.**

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

 **Dandelions**

 **Those Three Seconds**

 _ **May 2018…**_

Steam rises in a slow column, swirling through the air.

At the sound of a soft sigh, I turn my attention to Edward. He's leaning against the counter across the room, his eyes on me as as I watch my tea beginning to cool. We've been here for over an hour, neither of us knowing what to say or where to go from here.

 _To end this._

His words play on a loop in my mind, a fresh fissure opening up in my heart every time I picture his anguished face and the break in his voice when he said it.

On Friday, he asked if this could be the end. I couldn't answer him then.

Now, I think I can.

But, first…

"The children need you, Edward."

Edward's lips purse, his brows furrowing. I can _see_ the shame written all over his face. He knows, as well as I do, that he's shirked his duty to his children. "What have you told them?"

"Nothing, really. I just said you were working and must not have had good cell reception. They were a little thrown by staying at Mom and Dad's for longer, but they've been okay."

I won't lie—it hurts to see the relief in Edward's eyes as he nods and visibly relaxes his stance, his shoulders loosening. The words hovering on the tip of my tongue are out before I can swallow them.

"You really thought I'd go to him, didn't you?" Another question pops into my head. "Is that why you were drinking and ignoring my calls? You thought I was with him?"

Suddenly, the closed curtains make more sense. _He suspected, but he didn't want to see anything that confirmed where I might have gone._

"I didn't know." His honesty, appreciated though it is, stings.

"I know you don't want to talk about this, Edward, but we need to clear this up. What happened...it was nothing. It _meant_ nothing. I'm not going to try and justify it, because I can't. It was a mistake and I'll regret it for the rest of my life. I'd had a few too many glasses of wine and I was lonely, but that's no excuse." My voice trembles as I add, "I _miss_ you, Edward. _You_ , the boy I fell in love with and the man I married. Not the man who puts his family last and turns to whiskey whenever the going gets tough."

Embarrassment pushes his words from his lips; I can see the remorse instantly. "You're one to talk, considering you just blamed alcohol—partly, at least—for what you did."

"That's fair," I admit softly. "I made a mistake. A big one, I know. You've made mistakes, too." Cocking my head slightly, I dash a tear from my cheek. "We lost a huge part of you after that accident, didn't we?"

.

.

 _I take the doctor's advice and call Edward's parents. As tears saturate my face, I tell my mother- and father-in-law to get to the hospital as quickly as they can, because Edward and the babies have been in an accident and Edward is in a bad way. Esme and Carlisle have been like a second set of parents to me since the very beginning of my relationship with their son; they've been a massive support to us throughout our infertility trials and the adoption process. Knowing they're on their way helps me take a deep breath for the first time in what feels like forever._

 _Mom and Dad won't be able to answer their phones until they get off work, so I send them both a text asking them to ring me when they can, then follow the doctor to my children. They've got a little bay of three beds to themselves, but two are empty when we arrive._

" _I'll go and fetch the on-call paediatrician for you," the doctor says, leaving me with my boys._

 _Seeing them, my sweet babies, hurt and upset almost breaks me._

 _Dillan spots me first, his sad little face bright red from crying. As soon as he sees me, he bursts into a fresh round of tears._

 _I'm so preoccupied with getting to them that I don't register the bulky cast on Jace's arm until he and Dillan wrap themselves around me, both of them wearing tiny scrubs and too-big socks on their feet. I don't want to think about why they had to change clothes, but my traitorous mind pictures a blood bath, even though I know the childrens' injuries are minor._

 _He lets out a soft whine, pulling back with his long lashes laden with fat tears. "Mama, I gots an owie."_

" _Oh, baby," I laugh softly, completely devoid of a single drop of humor. "I know you've got an owie. Are you okay? Does it hurt?"_

 _He shakes his head and leads into my hand as I stroke his hair away from his face. "No. I'm bwave wike a wion."_

 _Dillan smiles shakily as he tells me he's brave like a tiger._

" _Of course, you are, my brave boys."_

 _God, my heart. They're three-years-old. They've already been through so much, and now this? It's not fair._

 _A nurse arrives with Sadie, then. She's been changed, too, now in a plain white all-in-one and bundled up in a blanket. As soon as the nurse hands her over, I pepper her small face with kisses and return to the boys. My sweet girl's eyes slide open to find her brothers, and a smile spreads across her face when she sees me peering back at her._

" _Ma, ma."_

" _That's right, baby girl. Mama's here."_

 _I gently rest our foreheads together and hug the boy's with my other arm. "Mama's here now."_

 _._

 _Over the next hour, I hear things that terrify me. Things that no parent wants to hear about their children._

 _The car that hit them was doing sixty in a thirty zone._

 _They were stationary, like the first doctor said, about to leave the grocery store to come home to me. My family...they were effectively sitting ducks._

 _The driver of the other car unfortunately lost his life at the scene. My heart is full to the brim with gratefulness that my own family is safe, but my head fills with guilt because somewhere, there's a family mourning the loss of their father, brother, or son._

 _I hold my babies a little tighter when the paediatrician starts to go over their injuries._

 _Sadie is fine, although she'll likely be a little sore and bruised. Dillan has a couple of small cuts from broken glass and has been complaining that he aches since he arrived at the hospital. And Jace...Jace has a suspected break in his left arm as well as cuts and bruises. He'll need to wear the temporary cast until tomorrow, and then they'll evaluate whether he needs surgery or a longer-lasting cast._

 _All in all, they got off lightly_ — _their car seats really were lifesavers._

 _But Edward...he's still in surgery. The bleeding won't stop and the break in his hip is worse than they initially thought, not to mention the damage his brain might have sustained when his head hit the frame of the car. The nurse who brings a tearful Esme and Carlisle to the children's ward says we'll be kept updated, but at this point, we need to prepare for the worst._

 _._

 _It isn't until hours later that I get to see Edward._

 _In total, he spent almost five hours in surgery having his hip replaced, his head patched up, and his various other wounds sewn or glued back together._

 _It's nearing seven p.m. when I'm finally led into the intensive care unit where he's being taken care of. His bed is by the window; the late evening light pours in, throwing the white dressings on his head and arms into stark relief. The blanket is pulled up to his waist, but even on the little skin I can see, he's got scratches, blossoming bruises, and too many dressings to count._

 _The sight of him so battered and broken makes me feel sick._

 _He's got a fat lip and faint blotches under his skin where bruises will form over the next twenty-four hours. Butterfly stitches hold together what was obviously a slit above his eyebrow, and I force myself not to think about the fact that there are bandages wrapped around his head because he hit it hard enough the doctors weren't sure he'd make it through surgery. Bandages hide the top of his head from me, but I already know they had to shave off most of his hair so they could treat his wounds. He's going to be devastated when he wakes up. He_ will _wake up. He has to. I can't even contemplate the thought that he might not._

 _Sinking into the chair at his bedside, I gently take his hand and stifle a sob when his fingers lay limp between mine._

" _It's me, Edward," I sniffle, choked up beyond words._

 _Just a few hours ago, I blew him a kiss from the front door as he reversed off the driveway with the children in the backseat_ — _they were all so excited to be heading to soft play to meet up with their cousins. If it weren't for a last-minute newborn photoshoot, I would have gone with them. I'd only just walked through the front door after taking pictures of the gorgeous, hours-old baby boy when I got that terrifying phone call from the paramedic._

" _Our babies are all fine, Edward. They're monitoring Sadie's and Dillan's cuts and bruises but it's more a precaution than anything else. Jace…" Sucking in a deep breath, I will myself to stay strong. "Jace's arm might be broken, but we won't know for sure until tomorrow, or maybe the day after. They have to wait for the swelling to go down."_

 _It feels odd, talking to him like this when he can't respond. They've got him on a heavy cocktail of sedatives. He needs to rest. To heal._

 _I sit with him for an hour, then Esme takes my place. Returning to the children's ward, I promise the our babies their daddy is okay and he'll be awake and playing with them again soon._

 _As Sadie and Jace sleep soundly in their beds, I rock Dillan in my arms and whisper to his sleeping face that his daddy isn't broken; that we'll have him back with us, whole and healthy, soon._

 _I have no way of knowing how very wrong I am._

 _No way of knowing that, when we do finally get Edward home, he's not whole._

 _._

 _._

Scowling, Edward shakes his head. "That's not true, Bella. I'm fine. The accident was just...it was shit, but I'm over it."

As he moves, I see the way he shifts to keep all of his weight on his other leg. It's sore because he was stupid and pushed himself too far when he ran on Friday, but I bet it doesn't help that he can't take any painkillers because he's spent the weekend drinking. The drinking itself...that started the day he got the news he'd never play football again.

When we moved here from the States, he made the huge sacrifice to leave behind the chance to play pro football. Instead, he took up a position coaching and joined the BAFA—the British American Football Association. He quickly made some great friends and absolutely loved playing, just as he always has.

Then the accident took that away from him, and I saw the fun-loving boy I fell in love with, and the happy-go-lucky, positive man I'd married, start to slip away.

He's so far from _fine_ , it's ridiculous.

"You lost a lot. It's okay to be sad about it—"

The eruption that interrupts me...I've been waiting for it.

"Do you know what I'm really sad about, Bella? Not about football, or not being able to play anymore. I'm sad that my wife hates our marriage so much, she thought finding another man was the answer to our problems."

My eyes burn and my hand shakes as I wrap it around my mug of cooling tea.

 _That's the first time he's admitted we have problems._

"I didn't go looking, Edward. It wasn't like that, and you know it."

"What do I know? I mean, shit, Bella—would you even have told me if the kids hadn't told me he was here?"

At that, I can't help but feel angry. "Of course, I would! I don't lie, Edward, especially not to you. But I don't get that same courtesy, do I?"

He sneers, throwing his hands in the air. "Oh, what? You're calling _me_ a cheat now?"

"I didn't say that, did I? I know you're not a cheat." Blowing out a long breath, I try to call myself before I lose my head. "I know that you're not always at work when you say you are. The children…they like to follow you on—"

" _Find My Phone_ ," we say at the same time. He sighs and runs a hand through his unruly hair. "Shit."

I've never resented Edward for needing time to himself, especially after a long day at work. What I do resent is having to lie to my children every day to protect their image of him even as my heart is breaking, because my husband would rather drown his sorrows than come home to his wife.

"Mmhm. Do you know how hard it is to cover for you now Jace and Dillan are starting to read? They can tell the map isn't over your building by how it looks, but they can also read the street names now."

With a wry, humorless smile, I add, "I didn't realise you had so many pubs on the books these days."

For the second time, I see shame etched in his features, because we both know the pubs he frequents before coming home aren't for sale.

Recovering from the accident took Edward a long time. It was a year before he could walk without a very noticeable limp, and another six months before he was allowed to start going to the gym to work out again. When he was finally well enough to go back to work, it quickly became obvious that he wouldn't be able to remain a coach. It killed him to not be able to join in or show the guys what he wanted of them. It killed him to see them on the field when he would forever be relegated to the sidelines.

Eventually, he found a replacement and quit, stepping straight into his new job thanks to a family friend. Being a realtor was never on his radar, but it helped pay the bills. He didn't love it like he loved playing football, but over time, he made friends with his colleagues and I saw the buzz of excitement when he got his first few sales.

Like most things, the novelty wore off after a while.

A few beers at the weekend turned into a bottle of beer or a Jack and coke with dinner after work, then a fresh bottle started appearing in the time it took me to tuck in the children. Over time, his promises to be home for dinner became less frequent; honestly, I can't remember the last time he ate dinner at the table with me, Jace, Dillan, and Sadie.

Gazing at him now, I realize I'm more used to seeing him in a suit than not. I find that it's hard to remember the exact moment he started to pull away, but I know it was a few months after her started his new job.

"Where did you go, Cullen?" I whisper, watching the play of emotions as they cross his face.

 _Surprise. Fondness. Amusement. Sadness. Regret..._

"I never went…" he trails off; we both know what he was about to say would have been a lie. With a heavy sigh, he offers me a sad shake of his head and a small shrug as if to ask _where do we go from here?_

Truthfully? I have no idea.

"I think...I think I need to come home. The children need their routine, their beds."

Edward nods, resignation coloring his features. "You're right. I'll pack up some stuff and head to Mom and Dad's or something."

Frowning, I shake my head. "You don't have to go."

"I do. If we're doing this…" _if we're splitting up_ , "I can't be here with you every day as if nothing ever happened."

Swallowing the cries attempting to claw their way up my throat, I force myself to nod and choke out an _okay_. This hurts. Should it hurt this much? I feel like someone's taken a machete to my heart and left me on the ground to bleed out. The lump in my throat makes it impossible for me to speak, so I watch in silence as Edward empties his coffee mug into the sink and heads toward the stairs. He pauses at the bottom, one hand on the railing and the other in his hair.

"Can I...can I just ask you one favor?"

Nodding quickly, I manage to choke out, "Anything."

His jaw ticks. "Tell me if...if you move on, okay? I just...I want to find out from you."

 _This must be what heartbreak feels like._

"I don't...Edward, I won't…"

Clenching the railing hard enough to make his knuckles go white, he curses softly. "Please, Bella. I don't...it's not a lot to ask. If you choose to be with _him_ , at least just have the courtesy to tell me."

I wish I could explain how much I hate this. I wish I could put into words how much I love him and regret that our marriage has come to this. I wish I could soothe his fears, but nothing I say is going to take that scenario from his mind, even though it's never been even a remote possibility in mine.

Actually, while I'm wishing things, I wish the first person I told about my smear test results was Edward, and I wish I'd never opened that bottle of wine in the first place.

.

.

 _My cell dances across the coffee table, the screen lit up with a number I recognize only because it called me at almost this exact time a week ago. I remember the woman's voice and the exact words she uttered._

" _Mrs. Cullen, we've got the results back from your recent smear test, and we'd like to see you in the clinic to discuss a few things with you. Is tomorrow morning all right?"_

 _I didn't tell a single soul, but I spent the entire afternoon and evening worrying, wondering, planning. When Edward stumbled to bed just before midnight, I rolled over to face his back and contemplated telling him, but I found the words lodged in my throat. How could I tell him? All I could think was 'this might be nothing—but it might be something'._

 _Gianna Scott from across the street died last year after a year-long battle with cervical cancer. Her three-year-old son is without his mother, her husband without his wife._

 _It was a torturous wait, but tomorrow finally came. I waved the children off with my mom, as it was her day to take them to school and nursery, then sent a text to Edward to wish him a good day at work._

 _He didn't respond._

' _Abnormal cells,' the doctor told me when I finally shuffled into her office. They wanted to do an examination and a few more tests to see what was going on to rule out anything sinister._

 _As I drove home an hour later, a wad of pamphlets shoved in my purse and a promise that I'd hear from the hospital soon, all I could picture was Gianna's husband and son standing beside her grave last fall._

 _I pulled over to cry until my eyes were dry and my fists hurt from pounding on the steering wheel when the image morphed into Edward and our babies standing over_ my _grave._

 _A week later, Edward is at work, our children are all at school and nursery, and I'm sitting on our couch, too afraid to just answer the damn call._

 _A loud bang from outside_ — _a car backfiring, probably_ — _startles me into action._

" _He-hello?"_

 _The same voice from last week is back. I can immediately hear the smile in her voice as she tells me the results were much better, but I will need a follow-up scan in three months just to check on things. I'm also reminded to have a read of the pamphlets she gave me last week and to contact them if I need to._

 _It's a huge relief. Almost paralyzing, in fact._

 _When Mom calls to tell me she's going to keep the children after her pre-arranged playdate with Alex and Vanessa's boys after school, I'm a little deflated_ — _until I realize that it means I can have an evening in with Edward without the children underfoot. I can make his favorite dinner and we can curl up in front of the TV with a grown-up movie. No Trolls or Moana here tonight._

 _I have most of the ingredients for lasagne in the cupboards and the fridge, but I'm missing garlic bread and mozzarella, for the top, so I slip my feet into my favorite sneakers and head out to the store, filled to the brim with relief and excitement that instead of breaking life-altering news to Edward tonight, we can enjoy a peaceful evening together and, hopefully, reconnect. He's been increasingly distant recently. Our marriage sometimes seems more like an inconvenience to him than something he wants. I try to make time for him, for_ us _, but it's difficult when only one of us makes the effort._

 _He's pulling away, I can see that,_ feel _that, and it terrifies me. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to hold on. Every day, my grip on him loosens. I vowed to love and cherish him until the day I die; he made that promise, too. But what do I do, how do I fight when my opponent is supposed to be my partner in this?_

 _._

 _ **Still at work, I'll be home late tonight. Don't wait up. E.**_

 _That's it? That's all I get?_

 _A frustrated scream tears up my throat and out into the room as I toss my phone at the armchair and muffle my frustration with a pillow from the sofa._

 _It's almost seven. Dinner has been ready for over an hour; the garlic bread is cold and the bottle of wine I bought for our impromptu date night has been occupying the dining table all by itself while I waited for Edward's BMW to pull onto the driveway._

 _But he's not coming. Not any time soon, anyway._

 _I instinctively already know where he is, but morbid temptation propels me to my feet and has my phone in my hand, the Find My Phone app on the screen before the first tear falls._

 _Of course. The pub._

 _Every day this week, I've fended off questions from the children about where he is and why he hasn't been here to tuck them in. Last Friday, Edward woke Sadie up when he stumbled in at eleven. While he snored himself to sleep in our bed, I sang soft lullabies to Sadie in her princess canopy bed until she drifted off spread over my chest, her little head pillowed on my shoulder and her thumb tucked between her rosebud lips._

 _I texted him to say I was making his favorite and that we were child-free for the evening. When he didn't answer, I foolishly let myself believe it was because he was getting everything squared away so he could come home to his wife for a work-free evening._

 _Instead, he wants me to believe he's at work when he's drinking himself stupid at The Crown and Anchor._

 _._

 _The food I prepared especially for Edward doesn't appeal to me in the slightest now, so I split it into portions and slide the tubs into the freezer; they'll make handy, quick lunches for the children. Deciding that there's really not much point in staying up, I sigh and reach for the glasses I set out on the table. The fancy dining cloth can go back in the drawer, and the wine glasses we were given as a wedding gift can go back into the cupboard. As I reach for the wine to put it away, I realize there's nothing stopping me from having a glass by myself. Edward isn't here, but I can still take some time for myself._

 _A small voice in the back of my head says_ you're as bad as him, drowning your sorrows with alcohol _, but I promise myself I won't go overboard._

 _Pulling a glass back down from the cupboard, I pour a half glass of rosé and carry it upstairs to the bathroom attached to our bedroom. One of our favorite things in this house when we bought it was the corner bath, complete with jets and a small seat at one end. The children love taking their before-bed baths in here, and at one time, Edward and I used to love sharing the tub as we shared our days with each other._

 _Not tonight. Tonight, I have the warm, soapy water all to myself. Setting my glass of wine on the side of the tub, I strip out of the slinky blue dress I put on because Edward always used to tell me how much he liked the color against my skin, then I slide into the water with a sigh that seems exceptionally loud in the otherwise silent room._

 _By the time I finally pull myself out of the tub, my toes are wrinkled and I'm annoyed at myself for leaving the wine downstairs instead of bringing it up with me. Once I've pulled on some pyjamas, I head downstairs with my hair wrapped up in a slightly damp knot and my empty wine glass in my hand. I'm just about to head back up the stairs with a sappy movie from the DVD collection when a familiar knock sounds at the door._

 _Tap-tap_ - _taptaptap._

 _When I pull open the door, I can't help but smile even though I'm eager to wallow in self pity in bed._

" _Demetri. To what do I owe the pleasure?"_

 _He flashes his pearly whites in a broad grin, raising a bag of pretzels in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. "Any chance you and Ed fancy a Friday night gatecrasher? Gi's parents have DJ for the night and the silence is doing my head in."_

 _Snorting, I step out of the way and wave him inside. "Edward's not here, but you're always welcome, you know that."_

" _Thanks, Bella." The gratitude is written all over his face. Honestly, I'm sure there's some on mine, too. The prospect of having some company takes away the sting when I realize moping in bed will have to wait._

 _As we make ourselves comfortable on the sofa and he catches me up with everything he and DJ—his son—have been up to since we saw each other last, my eyes drift to the ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. Tears gather in my eyes as I picture Edward in his place, still wearing a ring declaring himself the husband of a woman who's no longer living. Demetri lost Gianna over a year ago now, but I know he still thinks of himself as a husband rather than a widower._

 _They moved in as newlyweds shortly after we did. At that time, most of our neighbors were elderly, so we quickly bonded—The Youngsters On The Block, as Demetri and Edward used to call us._

 _Then we adopted Jace, Dillan, and Sadie, and they had DJ, and our children had built-in playmates living just across the street from each other._

 _Well, most of the time, anyway—Sadie and DJ go through stages of loving and hating each other. Gianna always laughed and said they'd end up married with a bunch of adorable babies; personally, I agree with her._

" _So," he says pointedly. I wince, knowing what's coming. "Where's Ed this evening? He's not still working, surely?"_

 _I don't know what's come over me, but for the first time when someone asks where he is, I don't lie. Maybe it's the stressful forty-eight hours I've just had, or the disappointment at his continued avoidance, but I tell the truth._

" _He's hiding out at the pub."_

 _Even I hear the note of bitterness saturating my words; there's no way Demetri misses it._

 _His gray eyes soften even as I watch his brows furrow. "Does he, uh...he do that often?"_

 _My eyes burn as I stare down at my wine glass. It's almost empty, so I top it up before admitting, "Most nights, I suppose."_

 _The last year or so...it's been tough. Adjusting to Edward's new job, Sadie starting nursery, and Jace starting new therapies...plus my photography studio gaining popularity and the various activities the children attend—it hasn't been easy, not by any stretch of the imagination._

 _In another life, before the accident, Edward and I were each other's support. We used to lean on each other, rely on one another._

 _Now, I'm lucky if I get a 'hello' when he comes in from work in the evening—_ if _he comes home._

 _I'm not stupid. I know he's no cheat. Plus, I know that on the nights he doesn't come home—or he comes home way after the realtor closes—the pub landlord lets him crash on the sofa there. I well up as I try to count the nights I've fallen asleep staring at the little blue dot on the screen that represents my husband's phone._

 _Demetri's hand lands on mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. I blink back my tears and manage a faint smile._

" _Hey, you can talk to me, you know? I'm not gonna judge. Hell, I've barely got my own life together. I've got no_ room _to judge anybody else."_

 _Snorting a laugh, I shove my realization that_ this is the first time a man other than my father has touched me in weeks, however innocent _to the back of my mind. It's the wine and the overly emotional couple of days I've had taking their toll on me, that's all_. _At best, I'm a lightweight. A two-drink kinda girl._

 _As my one bottle of rosé turns into two and we start on the wine Demetri brought over, I feel myself forgetting why I was so upset. He's a funny guy. Demetri's a teacher at the local primary school—or middle school, to Americans like me. He follows me to the kitchen and regales me with tales of the kids' antics as I pull a bag of Doritos from the cupboard and tip the contents into a big bowl._

" _...so, I said, 'Johnny, you can't just go around searching through people's lunches til you find one you like!'"_

 _Shaking my head, I throw him a wry half-smile over my shoulder. "Are you surprised, though? It's Johnny Hunter…"_

 _Demetri grins, his gray eyes crinkled at the edges. "True, true."_

 _The Hunters are well known in our part of town as the stuck-up, snobbish type. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Hunter, anyway. Their sons are hellions, all four of them. Johnny is the youngest, and Demetri is lucky enough to be stuck with him in his class this year._

" _Uh, Bella? Is there something you...are you...okay?"_

 _Spinning—and just barely managing to keep my balance by grabbing the nearest thing, which just so happens to be Demetri—I blow out a long breath._

" _I, uh…"_

 _It's too late. I can't lie—not when he's got his hand on the pamphlets stacked on the island._

 _His eyes are wide and his thick brows furrowed as he steadies me with a hand on my waist and peers down at my equally wide-eyed expression. "Bella?" he prompts, more than a hint of fear in his voice._

" _I...I'm okay. It was just a scare. Abnormal cells…" I choke up when he flinches._

 _Gianna was originally told her cancer was 'most likely abnormal cells'. Thirteen months later, Demetri and DJ watched, along with their friends and family, as she was lowered into the ground._

" _You've been checked out? You're okay?"_

 _For the first time since that terrifying phone call a week ago, I feel panic bubbling in my chest. I've managed to swallow my fear and stifle the 'what ifs' until now. Demetri's earnest, worried, open expression brings it all to the surface in a tsunami of unexpected emotion. My results were okay,_ I'm _okay, but so easily could have been different._

" _Oh, God…" I croak, fruitlessly trying to dash the onslaught of tears from my cheeks._

 _Demetri tugs me into his arms and cradles me against his chest, rocking us side to side as I bawl like a baby. It isn't until now, with a warm set of arms around me and soft, murmured reassurance that I'll be okay in my ear, that I realize how absolutely petrified I was. Last night, when Edward crawled into bed beside me, all I wanted was_ this _. A comforting embrace and a promise that everything would be fine. Instead, he gave me the cold shoulder and slipped away to the bathroom when I tried to cuddle up to him in the morning._

 _It feels nice to be comforted for once instead of being the one doing all the comforting. I've forgotten what it feels like to let go and let someone else share my burden; it's freeing. I've missed it. I've missed being able to rely on someone else to hold me up when my strength deserts me._

" _I'm such a mess," I eventually sniffle, mortified by my outburst._

 _Demetri chuckles softly and uses his thumbs to wipe beneath my eyes. I lift my gaze to his face, finding nothing but affection and relief. "I'm not good with criers."_

" _Hey, you did okay, if you ask me." Blowing out a long breath, I bite my lip. "Sorry for...that."_

" _Don't you dare apologize, all right?" Demetri frowns and raises his eyebrows. "Can I assume I'm the first person you've told?"_

 _When I nod, he doesn't bother to hide his disappointment. It's clear that, after tonight, Demetri has a very different image of my marriage than he did before. Part of me feels guilty that his perception of Edward has almost definitely changed tonight, too, but a bigger part of me struggles to feel bad. Edward has done this himself. I've tried to help. God knows I've done everything I can, from attempting to talk him through our problems to suggesting counselling—for both of us._

 _But it falls on deaf ears, and now he's made his bed. I don't know what else I can do to save him—to save us._

" _We're a mess, aren't we?" Demetri chuckles. "I always thought I'd have my life together by the time I made it to my thirties."_

" _Me, too," I admit, shaking my head. This definitely isn't how I pictured my life. There are parts I wouldn't change for the world…_

 _But there are also things that I'd give anything to change._

 _Slowly, I begin to register odd sensations—the gentle stroke of Demetri's thumb on my wrist, his eyes burning a hole in my face, and the flip-flop of my stomach as I meet his gaze._

 _It all happens so quick. In the blink of an eye, my whole world, my whole life, is irrevocably altered._

 _Before I have a chance to think, Demetri's face is lowering to mine and our lips are brushing together. It lasts a few seconds—maybe not even that long._

 _I instantly regret it._

 _His salty pretzel and sweet wine breath gusts over my face as I scrunch my eyes shut and clench my fists at my sides, tears squeezing between my eyelids to tumble over my cheeks._

 _Wrong. That was so wrong._

 _An everlasting moment of silence passes between us. I can feel that he regrets it, too. Of course he does. We're friends, I'm married...God. What have we done?. I'd like to blame the wine, but it wasn't just the alcohol. I_ have _had way more to drink than I should have; I'm a little wobbly on my feet and my head feels foggy, but it's more than that._

 _It's weeks of loneliness, months of grappling to hold onto my husband as he pulls further and further away from me, from our family, and the hollow feeling in my chest whenever I force a smile on my face and tell myself 'we'll be okay'._

" _Bella, I'm—"_

" _Don't. Don't say it."_

 _If you don't say it, I don't have to accept that it happened._

 _Except, I do, because however short that kiss was, I kissed him back. For the briefest of moments, I let my eyes slide shut and I pretended I'm not living Groundhog day with a husband who hates our marriage, avoids his family, and prefers his friends, Jack Daniels and Jim Beam, to me, his wife._

 _And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I'll regret those three seconds for the rest of my life._

* * *

 **Okay, how are we all doing?**


	6. Memories Come, And Then They Go

**Sorry for the delay, gang. I got another kidney infection and now a double eye infection, so...*sigh* It's not been fun and games here, but there ya go. I'm loving reading your reviews and differing opinions on these two. It's so interesting how each of you has a totally different view on who's to blame or how they can fix it. Please keep 'em coming!**

 **I'm** **tinkering** **with the timeline still, so if you've asked for spoilers, the only one I can give is that this WILL have a happy ending for Edward and Bella. You'll just have to trust me to get you there in due course.**

 **Also—I'll indicate a flashback by having it in italics and separated from the rest of the story by two dots, just to make it obvious what's present time and what's in the past. Hope that helps.**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognisable characters; those are all Stephanie Meyer's.  
No copyright infringement is intended.

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

 **Dandelions**

 **Memories Come, And Then They Go**

 _ **April, 2018…Edward**_

 _._

 _._

" _Thanks, Bill," I grunt, hauling myself toward the doors._

 _Behind the bar, Billy inclines his head and offers me a two-finger wave. I ignore the sympathy in his eyes and the questions hanging off the end of his tongue. Lately, he's been getting more curious. He thinks I'm too drunk to notice._

 _I'm comfortable here; I don't want to have to switch pubs because of the chatty landlord. It's not too busy, mainly older guys telling war stories and reminiscing. And questions aside, Billy's good to me._

 _The wall of cool air hits me as I unlatch the door and step outside, flinching when it clacks shut. My head is too tender for loud noises._

 _Ouch._

 _Luckily, my car's right by the doors. I fish through my pockets for my keys, finally finding them in my back pocket before climbing in and hunting for the painkillers I keep in the glove compartment. It's rammed full of all kinds of shit._

 _Jace's Spiderman gloves, a pair of socks, some CDs—Bella's Christina Perri album, my Killers special edition, nursery rhymes…_

 _There they are. Right at the back, behind all the other junk, is a familiar white and blue box. Swallowing the last two paracetamol dry, I force my gaze away from the CD of Sadie-bear's nursery rhymes and swallow my guilt with the painkillers. She's still mad at me for missing her spring assembly at nursery last week; Sadie wouldn't even give me my smooch before I left for work the next morning. She was a flower and demanded everyone call her 'Petal' for a week._

 _Bella sent me the video, and I cried at my desk as I watched our baby girl twirl and dance in her flower headdress and poofy skirt. She's such a goofball; my little princess. Sadie, Jace, and Dillan...they're my little rays of sunshine. My everything. I don't know what I'd do without them._

 _A voice in the back of my mind reminds me that I almost had to find out, but I silence it with a low groan and the radio turned up full-blast as I drive home. With the front windows down, I pray the chilly air will wake me up enough that I don't look as rotten as I feel, because even though I know I'm on a collision course heading for trouble, I don't want my babies to see it._

 _I'm heading for rock-bottom, even I know that._

 _I can't keep doing this—I can't keep missing stuff and keeping everyone at arm's length. It's doing nobody any favours, least of all me. I can try and pretend until I'm blue in the face but it's just not working anymore. This routine—work, pub, drink, sleep, repeat…_

 _It's killing me._

 _As I pull up onto our driveway, a heavy sigh wracks my frame. We worked so hard to afford this house. It's bigger than we need, really, with five bedrooms, a study, and an enormous yard at the back, but it's beautiful. So different from the typical style of homes back in Washington State, it took me a little while to get used to it. Now, I think it'd be weird to live anywhere else._

 _All right, Cullen. Time to get in there and face the music._

 _Guilt worms its way through my veins as I try to picture Bella's face when she got my text last night to say I was staying out. Did she wonder where I was? She rarely asks—or, she hasn't for a long time, anyway. I didn't even hesitate to tap out the_ _ **Don't wait up**_ — _ **staying with a friend**_ _after my third—or was it fourth?—pint._ _In hindsight, I should have come home, I know that. But in the moment, when I had my phone in my hand and the number of the local cab company on the screen, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't bring myself to go home and face the sympathy in my wife's eyes._

 _It's always,_ always _there. I can't escape it. I can never get away from the memories of the accident and the months that followed, because they play on an endless loop in the chocolate brown eyes I've loved since I was fourteen years old._

 _._

 _._

 _ **September, 2001**_

" _Here, Eddie, you can sit by me."_

 _I scrunch up my nose and shake my head. "You've just had a tuna sandwich for_ breakfast _, Mike. You're gonna be toxic."_

 _He grins and shrugs, turning to chat to one of his buddies who's also in our homeroom. Mom and Dad sold this move to me by promising it'd be great to spend more time with my cousin—it turns out he's a bit of a douche and I don't really enjoy his company. Like, at all. Of course, Em's lucky. He's in the year above me with our other cousin, Mike's brother James. Now_ he's _cool. He lets me play on his Game Boy sometimes._

 _Mr. Rodriguez points me toward an empty desk a couple of rows ahead of Mike—upwind, thankfully, because I wasn't kidding about the smell. Tuna turns him from an annoyance into something that essentially smells like a toxic waste plant. Not that I've ever been to one for real, but...you know. He's even more gross than usual after tuna, that's my point._

 _Dumping my book bag under my chair, I mumble what Dad calls a baby cuss word and realize I forgot to zip up the front pocket; my pencils and erasers tumble out onto the carpet under the table. "Dammit."_

 _I can hear Mr. Rodriguez moving over to his desk, so I quickly scoop everything back into my bag. I can organize it properly later—_

" _Is this seat free?"_

 _I startle at the soft voice. Jumping up, I slam my head on the underside of the table and groan as I gingerly touch the sore spot and edge backward, avoiding another thump. Blinking hard, I manage not to cry in front of the ridiculously pretty girl smirking at me. "Uh…"_

" _Are you okay? You hit your noggin pretty hard."_

 _Well, duh. I felt it._

" _I'm okay," I tell her, trying to remember what Dad told me about talking to girls._

 _Be cool, and remember, girls like confidence._

 _But this girl...she's wearing green plaid jeans and a baggy gray jumper with a cross-eyed owl on it. Her hair is really long and all over one shoulder except a couple of little braids tied at the end with neon yellow rubber bands. She doesn't look like the girls from California, that's for sure._

 _She's still staring at me a few seconds later when I realize what her raised-eyebrow look is probably trying to ask._

" _Oh! Uh, yeah, this seat's free."_

 _Like a total dork, I pull the chair out and pat the seat like she's a toddler or a dog I'm calling up onto the couch. Luckily, she doesn't laugh at me. I don't know if I could handle it in my fragile state._

 _Mr. Rodriguez introduces himself and babbles on about how we're all supposed to be inclusive and this is wonderful time in our lives and blah, blah, blah. All I can concentrate on is the girl next to me. She smells like strawberry Pop Tarts and the bangles on her wrist jangle every time she colors in a part of her doodle. I carefully crane my neck and edge closer to see what she's...oh._

" _Is that Mrs. Coleman?" I whisper._

 _Her lips curl up in a wicked grin. She glances at me, cocking her head a little. She has pretty eyes. They're like...chocolate. Warm, fudgy chocolate brownies. "You've had the pleasure of meeting her, huh."_

" _Yeah." I check Mr. Rodrigues isn't looking at us before slipping my schedule from my new binder. It's blue and...well, pretty boring compared to the one my table buddy is doodling all over. There's a bunch of animals, graffiti style letters, and faces peering back at me. Mrs. Coleman's is obvious—I've never seen glasses like hers before. They're almost triangular and they make her eyes look like they're popping out of her head._

" _She gave me first period gym."_

 _Hissing in sympathy, the pretty girl finishes shading Mrs. Coleman's thick eyebrows and pulls her hand back to admire her handiwork. At the bottom of the page in bright green letters is the name 'Bella', so I guess that's her name. It suits her. I silently test it out on my tongue, liking how it feels._

" _So, uh...I'm Edward. Edward Cullen."_

 _She hesitates a moment, tapping the end of her pencil against her binder. "I'm Bella. You're the fresh meat, right?"_

 _The familiar flush of embarrassment burns my ears. "That's me."_

 _Mr. Rodriguez decides to torture us by having everyone share their name and one fun fact about their summer, so our conversation is cut short. The exercise seems fairly pointless considering I'm the only new kid in this podunk town, but my new classmates compete to come up with the most interesting fact, leaving me and Bella until last. I blow out a long breath and murmur my name and that I just moved here from a town just outside L.A., anticipating the 'then how come you're so pale?' because I've heard it a billion times already._

 _You can't get tan if you're too busy playing Pokemon, but I'm not gonna tell everyone that._

 _Bella goes last. She chews her lip and twirls her pencil between her fingers. "I'm Bella Swan, and I guess the most interesting thing I did this summer was go cliff-diving."_

 _Mr. Rodriguez's eyes widen, but nobody else—except me—seems shocked. I manage to wait until we're excused and the bell rings to send us to our first class before tapping her shoulder. She peers back at me and, for a moment, I don't have any words._

" _You, uh...you went cliff-diving? Isn't that dangerous?"_

 _We're the same age, but I feel like a dumb kid when she shakes her head and her eyes crinkle with her wide smile as she laughs loudly in the hall right outside homeroom. She has this...I don't know—she has this_ something _that makes her seem so much more mature than me. "You know what? I don't think cliff-diving is half as dangerous as you could be, Cullen."_

" _Me?" Embarrassingly, my voice cracks. Unlike Mike, Bella doesn't mention it. "I'm harmless!"_

 _Shaking her head like she knows something I don't, she shoulders her worn orange backpack and heads off to her first class. "I doubt that."_

 _By the time I finish my first day at Forks High, the back cover of my binder is no longer plain. I'm not brave enough to draw all over the front yet, but the back is fair game; two messily drawn eyes stare back at me every time I curl back the last page. I'm no artist, but they're kinda cool. When I get home, I dig out Mom's art pencils and shade in the irises._

 _A warm, fudgy chocolate brown._

 _If only I could have known then that the eyes I fell in love with that cold, Forks day would one day be the eyes that broke my heart._

 _._

 _._

 _ **May, 2018**_

Usually, when I shut my eyes, I can block out anything I don't want to see.

That's not the case now.

Now, when I shut my eyes, all I can do is picture it—picture _them_. The agony of their betrayal hollows my chest. It _hurts_.

 _Warm, fudgy chocolate brown eyes darkened by regret and heavy with tears._

I'll never forget the way they filled and overflowed as soon as I stepped through the front door. Only once have I ever seen her look more gutted.

The day our doctor told us we wouldn't ever have biological children, I honestly thought I'd lost her. She withdrew into herself to the point I wondered if she needed an intervention. For days, she didn't get out of bed except to use the bathroom. For days, I hovered and fussed, wondering if I'd ever get my wife back.

Then, slowly, she began to return. I saw the light slowly starting to seep back into the eyes I loved. I felt her heart racing against mine when she curled into me at night. I watched her lips curling into shaky smiles when I promised we'd do whatever it took to have our own little family.

This...this was different. The light was already gone when I walked through the door that miserable day in April. Just four weeks ago, it feels like I've lived a lifetime since then.

Since she admitted that she'd cheated.

 _It was just a kiss._

Those five words have been on repeat in my brain, but I can't make them stick.

It's funny how other things are embedded in my memory, but not that.

.

.

 _I'm almost at the front door when it opens. I pause, managing a smile as Demetri steps out, pocketing his phone._

 _I'm the only one smiling._

" _Hey, man. What's up?"_

 _He purses his lips and stares at something over my shoulder, not meeting my eyes. "Not much, Ed, not much."_

 _An unfamiliar, awkward silence descends. "No DJ this morning?"_

 _Demetri twists his keys between his fingers and shakes his head, looking at his hands now. "Nah, it's Gi's parents' weekend to have him."_

 _Relief blankets him and his tense shoulders relax as a car pulls up behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see his in-laws climbing out of their Lexus before they unload DJ from the backseat._

" _Well, I gotta run."_

" _Sure, man. I'll see you around."_

 _He's obviously relieved to have his boy home; he rushes across the street, scooping up his son and heading inside with his wife's parents. I watch them go, prolonging the inevitable, before sighing and heading inside myself._

 _Familiar noises greet me—the Paw Patrol intro music, the_ thump-thump-thump _of little feet on the upstairs landing, and Bella's voice as she calls out to the kids to tell them to be careful. I'm standing just inside the front door, taking it all in, when she appears in the doorway between the hall and living room and freezes._

 _My eyebrows furrow as her eyes immediately fill with tears. They're glassy and wide, her lip between her teeth._

" _What's going on?"_

 _For a moment, I think she's going to answer me, then the shrill ringing of the phone has her snapping her lips shut before she can say a word. I watch her back as she snatches up the phone from the console table._

" _Hey, Ro." She listens to my sister-in-law for a minute, anxiety beginning to claw at my stomach. I hate seeing her cry. Is it mom? Dad? Her mom or dad? Not knowing makes my steadily receding hangover return full-force._

" _I'll make sure they're ready, don't worry. Do they need spare socks? Okay, that's fine. I'll see you in a little bit."_

 _She sets the phone back in the cradle with a click, a big sigh shaking her bowed shoulders and hanging head._

" _Bella? Will you talk to me?"_

 _Still facing away from me, she wipes her face with the backs of her hands before turning to look at me. "Rose is coming to take Jace, Dillan, and Sadie to a birthday party, can you hold on until then?"_

 _I want to be an ass and say 'no'. It's sorely tempting, because I want to know what's put that look on her face and I want to fix it, but the kids thundering down the stairs with cheers of 'Daddy!' that make me feel like total shit put a stop to my questions—for now._

 _._

 _._

Honestly, looking back, I wish I'd dropped the subject. I wish I'd never had to hear the words, 'I kissed someone else' fall from my wife's lips.

And I wish my first reaction hadn't been to walk away and bury my head in a bottle.

 _It was just a kiss._

To her credit, she never tried to get out of it by saying 'it was just a kiss'—that's my foolish attempt at downplaying it all.

When I showed up at home just after nine that night, she waited for me to shower and sober up a little before we sat together in the kitchen. I'd never felt more like an ass than I did as she owned up to feeling miserable and lonely...and told me about her 'scare'.

The thought of it, of those results not being so harmless, absolutely guts me. I was there, I saw what cervical cancer did to the Scotts. It wrecked Demetri, and DJ...man, that kid still breaks my heart asking if his mama stayed with us, and can she come home yet? It kills me to know that Bella spent even a second worrying about that shit and didn't feel like she could tell me—but I didn't make it easy, did I? I came home after everyone was in bed on that Thursday, the day she got the call, and the following week, instead of coming home to the meal I knew she'd cooked for us, I hid out at the pub with Billy overnight.

I've since seen the tubs of leftovers in the freezer. Lasagne. She made my favourite. She was going to tell me everything and, like a coward, I chose alcohol over my wife.

 _I've been doing that a lot lately._

Raking a hand through my hair, I sigh and raise the glass bottle to my lips. Not even I like warm beer, so I wince as I set it back on the coffee table with a quiet _thunk._ It's _too_ quiet.

Bella's dropping the boys with her parents and Sadie with Em and Rose for the night. When she comes home, we're going to talk logistics. Bills, mortgage...our kids.

The sound of a car in the driveway precedes what I'm sure will be a horrendous conversation.

When we got married eleven years ago, I pictured us growing old together. We'd have the big family Bella had dreamed of since she was a child, and I'd play football—whether it was in the US or England, I didn't care, I just wanted to play. When Renee and Charlie moved out here, it was sort of a done deal that we'd follow. They helped us move into our house a year after we waved them off at the airport. My folks and brother hung back in Washington for a year or so longer, then it was _our_ turn to help _them_ move continents.

I never imagined this; I never pictured our family splintering.

We fought for years to have our babies, to have our perfect little family, and now we're breaking it up.

I listen to the front door closing quietly and stand on slightly wobbly legs. The unsurprised expression on Bella's face as she steps into the room at the same time as I pick up my beer...it makes me feel sick. Of course she expects me to be drinking. Why wouldn't she? And here I am proving her right.

For the longest time, neither of us say a word. I don't want to start this conversation. I guess she doesn't, either.

But finally, she sighs. I watch her shoulders shake. "How inappropriate is it that I really want a drink for this?"

Blowing out a long breath, I manage a weak, involuntary smile. "Probably _very_ , but I feel the same."

We head to the kitchen together and pour ourselves drinks—OJ for her, and a coke for me. Much safer than alcohol. Taking seats at the breakfast bar, we gaze at each other across the counter. It's impossible to stifle the tears welling in my eyes; they're gathering in Bella's, too, her chocolate orbs shiny and heartbreakingly sad.

The memory of her staring at me from across the room on Friday...it batters me.

" _This can't be it...can it?"_

She didn't answer me, but she didn't need to. We both know where this has been heading for longer than either of us want to admit. When we were younger, people told us we'd outgrow each other; we didn't believe them then.

 _I do now._

Knowing we've reached the end of our marriage...it's a physical, burning ache in the pit of my stomach. There was a time I thought she was all I'd ever need, all I'd ever want.

The half-finished bottle of beer I abandoned when Bella returned taunts me like a siren over her shoulder. She gazes at me with open curiosity and sadness; I know they're the same emotions reflected back at her in my own eyes.

"How did we end up here?" I wonder.

Sucking in a deep breath, she twists her glass between her hands, peering down into her orange juice like it holds all the answers. "I'd like to believe this is just...fate," she admits softly.

I frown, "What do you mean?"

"I just…I want to believe we did everything right, you know? I don't want to believe that we messed this up somehow, or that we missed the opportunity to stop this happening." Dashing a tear from her cheek, Bella meets my gaze. "We both messed up, is the simple answer. We ended up here because we both made mistakes."

She's right, and I totally understand what she means when she says this would be easier if we could explain it away with fate—but like she said, this is on us. This is our fault, however much we don't want to believe it.

I've been putting drink and my own desires and emotions before those of my family, my _wife_.

She quit talking to me and sharing those things with me, expecting me to be a mind-reader, and she...she cheated.

In the end, her actions...they were the final nail in the coffin, but I've been hammering nails into that wood for a lot longer than Bella has, and that kills me.

 **~ oOo ~**

.

.

 _ **June 13th, 2015**_

 _What the hell?_

 _Slowly closing the front door, I follow the trail of abandoned sneakers, jackets, and toys to the foot of the stairs. Shaking my head with a small smile, I catch the quiet sounds of my wife singing and can't help but let it pull me in. She once told me she was tone deaf and couldn't sing a note, but there's nothing more beautiful in the world than her sweet voice crooning lullabies to our babies, which is exactly what I find when I arrive in the doorway to Sadie's nursery._

 _Leaning in the doorway with a soft sigh, I feel my heart thump hard._

 _Perfection._

 _When we picked out the glider for the nursery, Bella told me it was pointless and we'd barely use it—but she's so wrong. Every night, one of us sits in the comfy gray chair and rocks our baby girl to sleep, often with one or both of the boys wedging themselves onto our lap._

 _Tonight she's got all three of our babies squished on top of her, Sadie against her chest, Jace and Dillan on her thighs with their heads resting against her shoulders. All dressed in their footie pajamas, including Bella, they look pretty darn adorable._

 _Bella only realizes I'm here when my phone camera clicks. She's grinning at me, bashful, as I set the new photo as my screensaver._

" _You're back early."_

 _Shrugging even though I know I should be lifting the sleeping babies off her so we can all get to bed, I linger in the doorway a little longer to admire the view. Nothing beats it._

" _Em split to get home to Rose, so the rest of us figured we'd call it a night."_

 _The second Saturday of each month, the guys—Dad, Charlie, Emmett, Alex, and I—try to get together for a poker night, a couple of drinks...just a general guys' night. The wives sometimes use their night of freedom for girls' nights, but it depends on the kids. With Rose still spending most of her time with her head in the toilet—pregnancy sure isn't treating her well the second time around—and Alex's Vanessa heavily pregnant with their second son, none of us felt it necessary to stay out all that late._

 _Charlie stuck around at Mom and Dad's for another drink, but us 'younguns', as they call us, headed out together before the clock even struck ten. Gone are the days of our wild youth, smoking behind the diner back in Forks and crashing the prom._

 _Now, the best kind of Saturday night is one like this, where I can come home early to my wife and kids._

" _A little help, Cullen?" she asks with a wry little smirk._

" _Oh, I suppose so."_

 _Carefully untangling Dillan's small hand from his mother's hair, I cradle him against my chest and then gently scoop up Jace, too. Under the much more manageable weight of our four-month-old daughter, Bella grins and gets to her feet, planting gentle kisses on Jace's and Dillan's heads before carrying Sadie to her crib._

" _I'll meet you in our room, Bella," I whisper, knowing if I wake the kids, she may well kill me._

 _She nods to say she's heard me, so I head next door to the boys' room. Like Sadie's princess themed nursery, Jace and Dillan's room is a masterpiece that even I love spending time in. One wall is a mural of a jungle, complete with felt plants and trees and animals that seem to actually be climbing out of the wall. The other three walls are more subtle; pale green with charcoal stencils of jungle animals._

 _The designer we got in to help out used some kind of chalkboard material for the animals, so the boys can colour them in and then start over by erasing their scribbles. It's genius._

 _Tucking both boys into their beds, I smooth their hair away from their foreheads and kiss their soft skin, breathing in the smell of their cookies and cream bath wash. They picked it out themselves because it 'smells yummy, Daddy'._

 _It's familiar now, after four months of having them home with us._

 _Four months...Christ. Such a short amount of time to some, but it feels like they've been ours forever. In a week, I get to celebrate my first birthday as a daddy. It seems insane considering how close we came to never getting to be parents. And now, as of two days ago, we're legally and permanently the parents of three gorgeous children who call us 'Mama' and 'Daddy'—well, Sadie doesn't, obviously. She's too little. But the boys...they take every opportunity to call us our new monikers. Their social worker says that's normal, so we're soaking it up because one day, they'll think it's uncool to call out 'Mama' and 'Daddy' and tell us they love us without any hint of shyness on their sweet faces._

 _I'm face-up, eyes-closed to the showerhead and massaging shampoo into my hair when I feel a pair of small, warm hands sliding themselves around my waist. I grin into the water, humming._

" _Do you mind? I couldn't resist you all soapy and stretched out on display for me."_

 _Once I'm confident the suds are all gone, I twist in her arms and peer down into her doe eyes as I cup her face, water cascading over me, beating down on my shoulders and creating a heady, hot mist around us. Naked and smiling, she's more beautiful than ever._

" _I'd much rather_ you _were all soapy and stretched out on display for_ me…" _I tell her, my grin widening when she erupts with laughter at my waggled eyebrows and put-on deep voice._

" _I love you, crazy boy."_

" _I love_ you _, silly girl."_

 _And I do. More than alcohol and football and anything else in the world._

 **~ oOo ~**

I splash my face with cold water straight from the faucet and stand slowly, leaning on the counter for support as my eyes find the reflection of the shower in the mirror.

How did we go from _that_ to _this_ in less than three years?

Moonlight streams in between the gaps in the Venetian blinds, illuminating my red eyes. I've never cried as much as I have tonight. We've both shed tears; too many to count. It's been heartbreaking and cathartic and I don't know if it's made me feel worse or better to see that this is killing Bella as much as it's killing me.

It's almost eleven. We've been at this for over five hours. Everything's sorted, our lives squared away.

Our marriage, our relationship...it's done. Thirteen years together, eleven of those married, have come down to this.

We've split finances and schedules, decided that Bella and the kids will stay here while I look for somewhere for myself. In the meantime, Mom and Dad have loaned me their spare room. They've been supportive so far and left me to wallow, but I know that won't last forever. Besides, they—along with the rest of our families—deserve to know the truth, or as much as we want to share with them. They don't need the details, but it's gotta be pretty obvious what's going on by now.

I keep trying to picture myself going home to an empty house, an empty flat. I sell them for a living, I see them on a day-to-day basis, and yet I can't do it, I can't picture it. Even when I've stumbled home drunk, I've been able to crawl into bed with Bella and wake up to the kids squealing 'good morning, Daddy!'

Now, I'll only get to hear that three mornings a week—once I've sorted a place to live, Friday through Sunday, the kids will stay with me. The rest of the week, they'll be here with Bella. The schedule will be a work in progress until we know what works and what doesn't, but right now, that's the plan.

 _I'll be a weekend dad._

" _Edward? Are you, okay?"_

 _God, no._

It takes a moment for me to realize I said it out loud; it takes a few seconds longer for it to register than the bathroom door is open and Bella's arms are wrapped loosely around my middle.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I clench my fists on the marble top and heave in a shaky breath.

"This is shit. I hate this. I hate hurting you."

"We've hurt each other," I croak, trying to hold myself together even though I'm splintering, shattering into a thousand pieces—pieces of a puzzle even our puzzle-loving Jace wouldn't be able to reassemble.

The memories come, and then they go, and I'm left wondering how I ever could have let my dream girl, the girl once I chased until she relented and admitted she loved me, get away.

Turning and gently pushing Bella away with my hands on her shoulders, I stifle tears and a wince when my rejection makes her tense up. She wraps her arms around herself, blinking quickly.

"I think...it's time for me to go."

Her nod is so hesitant I almost want to take the words back, but I can't, and I'm right, anyway. It _is_ time. Time we start the long, painful process of figuring out who we are now we're not a _we_ , an _us_. For the first time since I was a naive teenager, I'm not part of a couple anymore. I'm thirty-one and suddenly finding myself alone for the first time in thirteen years.

I'm just me.

Flawed, lost, no-idea-who-I-am without her, me.

* * *

 **Raise your hand if you're still with me *crossing fingers***

 **If you want to catch teasers for this, please come join me on Facebook (CiaraShayee)**


	7. One Night To Undo It All

**Happy Friday, lovelies! This is the longest chapter yet *eek!* I hope you all  
enjoy it. I'm already working on the next chapter, which may well be an EPOV, but I'm not  
totally sure yet, so we'll see.  
**

 **Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews. I'm so sorry if I didn't get to respond to yours.  
I responded to as many as possible and I'll do my best to catch up.**

 **Anyways...it's Fri-yay! Have an amazing weekend xo**

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

 **Dandelions**

 **One Night To Undo It All**

 _ **June 20th, 2018...one month later**_

 _It's too quiet._

I stare at the white stucco ceiling, listening for footsteps I know won't come.

Over the last month, our schedule has changed somewhat. Edward now has the children every Wednesday afternoon and evening as well as Fridays and Saturdays, then I pick them up from his flat on Sunday morning in time to head to brunch with Mom and Dad. This way he gets to pick them up from school and nursery one day a week and the gap between visits isn't so long, and I get a weekend day with them.

This week is a little different though, because today's Edward's birthday. He's thirty-two. It's his first birthday since his sophomore year of college that we've woken up apart.

Last year, I woke him up by kissing my way down his chest, but we were interrupted before I even made it to his bellybutton. The kids piled into our bed with gleeful smiles and the crudely wrapped packages they'd hidden the previous evening.

 _I wonder if they woke him up the same way this morning?_

A quick glance at the bedside clock tells me it's almost eight, so they'll definitely be up. In fact, they're probably about to leave for school. Swiping my phone from the bedside table, I shoot off a quick text to Edward, then send another to my first client of the day to remind her of our appointment at nine.

I'm about to step into the shower when my phone pings with Edward's response to my _Happy Birthday, Edward. I hope the babies didn't wake you too early xo_.

 _Thanks, Bella. And thank you for the watch._

My watery eyes sting as the attached picture loads. It's a selfie of him sitting in bed, the kids piled on top of him in their pajamas with confetti and glitter...well, _everywhere_ , it seems. The glitter and confetti was Sadie's suggestion, the watch was Jace and Dillan's.

He's sort of smiling, but I know he's cursing the glitter. We both know from Sadie's recent obsession with the stuff that it sticks around no matter how much you try to get rid of it.

With a heavy sigh, I set down my phone and step into the shower, running through today's schedule in my head.

Mrs. Dennison is coming in with her one-year-old for her cake smash at nine, I have a couple of fine art shoots between ten and twelve, a dog shoot at one, and then a few hours before the engagement shoot at six; the soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Vada want some sunset pictures of them up at Beachy Head to go with the images we got last week at the lake where he proposed.

In between the dog shoot and the engagement shoot, I have my first solo session with the marriage counselor Edward and I are seeing. She wants to see us individually as well as together. I know Edward had his appointment yesterday, but he didn't answer when I asked how it went. He skipped over it and told me the kids had enjoyed their dinner at Pizza Hut, which didn't surprise me in the slightest. They'd been excited for date night with their daddy since I broached the idea with them last week; it only seemed fair he'd get to wake up with them on his birthday, so he collected them after work last night and kept them overnight.

.

.

 _Standing on the doorstep, Edward sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. He's had it cut this week. It's shorter. It looks...good. Less unkempt._

" _So, uh…" I frown as he tugs at his hair; he seems tired. "I still get to have them this weekend, right?"_

 _Oh… "Of course!" Sighing, I instinctively reach out to touch his forearm. It's an automatic gesture for me, but we both flinch when we touch. I pull my hand back and shove it into my hoodie pocket to keep it from getting me in trouble. "Edward, I'm not in charge here. They're_ our _children. I figured you'd want them for your birthday, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop you having them this weekend."_

 _Relief shines bright in his eyes as he grins and nods. "Okay. That's...good. Thank you."_

" _You don't have to thank me. I meant it—they're not just my children, and we don't need to fight over their time. We've got a good schedule going right now. Everyone's...happy."_

 _It's a big fat lie. The schedule works, and the children are doing fine with it after a rocky adjustment period, but this separation isn't what anyone wanted, not really. In a perfect world, we never would have let it get this far, but here we are._

" _Daddy! I'm hungry!"_

 _Peering over his shoulder, I spy Jace hanging his head out of the open rear window, Dillan and Sadie cheering their agreement from their car seats beside him._

 _Chuckling, Edward shakes his head and taps the doorframe. "I'd better go, get these hungry hellions fed. I'll see you tomorrow?"_

 _I nod. Mom and Dad picked the children up from Edward last Wednesday because I was stuck in traffic on the way back from a newborn photoshoot, but I'll be home tomorrow evening. "I'll be here, or I can come get them…"_

" _It's okay, I'll drop 'em off."_

 _Even without him having to say it, I know why he always insists on dropping them home—it gives him more time with them, even if it is in the car._

 _After Edward double-checks their car seats, the children wave madly at me as the car rolls off the driveway and pulls away with a toot of the horn. I wave back with a smile I don't feel, the click of the door closing behind me loud in the otherwise silent house._

 _._

 _._

 **~ oOo ~**

"Oh, Bella, you've done it again," Mrs. Olivier breathes as I show her some of the images from our session. Maggie, her twelve-year-old Labrador, sits happily beside us, tongue lolling and tail wagging. "These are amazing."

"I had a great model. Isn't that right, Maggie?"

After giving the soft yellow lab a pat, I scribble down the password to the online gallery where Mrs. Olivier can look through the proofs before she orders and remind her to give it a week so I can make the necessary edits.

Once she and Maggie have trotted out to her purple Mini, I lock up the studio and rush to my own car. I'm running a bit behind, but as long as traffic isn't too heinous, I should make it to the counselor in time.

 _Fingers crossed._

As luck would have it, the roads are clear and easy, so I make it to the office on the other side of town in perfect time. I've been here three times now; however, this is the first time I'll have a solo session with Tanya Denali, our counselor.

The jacket I pulled on when I left the studio gets shoved back in the car before I lock up and cross the parking lot, pausing just outside the glass doors. With a steadying deep breath, I tip my head back to the warm summer sun for a moment while I center myself.

Marriage counselling—not something I ever thought Edward and I would need. It's not as prevalent over here as it is in the States. I first brought it up six or seven months ago; it was only a half-hearted suggestion at the time, one I hoped would prompt Edward into paying attention to what he was doing. It didn't. Now, a lot of heartache later, here we are. This time, thankfully, he agreed.

Our first appointment two weeks ago was...hard. We were both terrified, not that we said it—which, according to Tanya, is our main issue. We don't say what we feel enough. We don't talk about the important stuff. It was a slap in the face, to be honest. I've always prided myself on my communication skills in my work life but I've been totally neglecting Edward by keeping everything bottled up. There _have_ been times I've opened up and begged him for something in return, _anything_ , but he was always so despondent and resistant to my efforts, I guess I gave up somewhere along the way.

Rightly or wrongly, it was all I could do; he didn't give me any other choice. He pulled away long before I did and kept himself so far out of reach I couldn't hope to catch him.

Even so, as I step inside and check myself in at the front desk, nerves crawl under my skin and I miss the comfort of his presence after having him with me for the last two sessions.

Although, it's not just here I miss him. He's been a part of my life for so long, it's hard to adjust to seeing him even more infrequently than I did when we were still living together.

.

.

" _Of, for the love of…"_

 _Biting my lip to stifle a laugh, I watch as Rosalie scoops her daughter from her highchair and holds her at arm's length with a grimace. "You're definitely your daddy's daughter."_

 _Lily's big blue eyes widen, her messy face splitting in a toothy grin. "Daddy!"_

 _Rolling her eyes with a fond smile, Rosalie shakes her head. "Yeah, baby. You get your love of mess from your daddy."_

 _At eighteen months old, Lily is both the spitting image of her dad and a character clone. She's hilarious, blonde-haired and blue-eyed like a beautiful little doll—a very messy doll._

" _I'll be back, B. I'm just going to hose this one off."_

" _Ooh, hose, Mummy! Hose bath!"_

 _Rosalie snorts and carries her daughter out of the kitchen, presumably to the half-bath down the hall, not the hose in the backyard. I settle in on my phone, listening to Lily's giggling down the hall while I sort through enquiries on my photography website, respond to comments on my blog, and text Mom to tell her I'll be over in an hour to grab the children. They're having a make-your-own pizza night with their Nana, Grampa, and cousins Alexander and Aaron. I know some grandparents don't like having their grandchildren frequently, but my parents have always insisted on being able to have Nana and Grandpa time with Jace, Dillan, and Sadie; Edward's mom and dad, Esme and Carlisle, are the exact same. Jace, Dillan, and Sadie are lucky to have four adoring grandparents who cherish the time they get to spend with their grandbabies._

 _Speaking of babies…_

 _A soft series of coos and whimpers from the wicker bassinet in the corner has me smiling before I even spy the sweet face peering up at me._

" _Hey, gorgeous boy," I sing, scooping him into the cradle of my arms. If Lily is all Emmett, five-month-old Henry is all Rosalie. He's got her pretty hazel eyes and insanely long eyelashes, as well as her pouty lips and wide smile._

 _Carrying him back to the enormous oak dining table Emmett and Rosalie use for entertaining, I entertain my sweet nephew, knowing it's almost time for his dinner. I'm so enamoured with his giggles and smiles that I don't hear Rosalie and Lily heading upstairs or the front door opening._

 _I only realize there's someone behind me when Henry's eyes find something over my shoulder and he gurgles a fresh round of laughter._

 _Turning in my seat, I catch my breath and offer Edward a hesitant smile. It's been a week since our talk, since we set up the new schedule. Tomorrow, I'll drop the boys at school in the morning and Sadie at nursery just before lunchtime, and then I won't see them until I pick them up Sunday morning. It's the first time we'll do this, and I'd be lying if I said I'm not nervous._

 _It also means this is the first time I've seen Edward in a week. He looks…good. Tired but good. My eyes instinctively search him for signs that he's been drinking, but I don't find any. Apart from looking worn out, he looks well. I'm glad._

" _I think he wants you," I murmur, rising to hand Henry to his uncle._

" _Hey, little dude."_

 _Seeing Edward with a baby has always hit me right in the ovaries. Our recent separation doesn't change that. He's still a handsome man, still the man I love, and he's still adorable when he fusses over our godson._

 _When Henry's amusement fades and he settles against Edward's chest, fiddling with his loosened tie, the silence is oppressive._

 _Sighing, his gaze finds mine. "So, how are you?"_

 _I open my mouth before snapping it shut. Both of us smile ruefully. "This is weird, isn't it?"_

" _Yeah," Edward breathes a chuckle, taking a seat opposite me. "So, what've you been up to this week? Catch me up."_

 _._

 _By the time Rosalie comes downstairs with a fresh-faced, My Little Pony pajama-clad Lily, Edward and I are all caught up and laughing about Dillan's new dislike of any green vegetable. She raised her eyebrows at us but says nothing, instead taking Henry so she can feed him. Even now, even with three beautiful children, I can't stifle a tiny pang of jealousy at seeing Rosalie holding Henry to her breast. It's something I never knew I wanted until I realized it wasn't something I'd ever get to do, like feeling a baby kick from within and watching Edward fawn over my growing bump. After numerous counseling sessions before we adopted—and some after—I've accepted that I was always meant to become a mother through adoption, and it's enough for me. I'm happy with my three beautiful children whether they share my genes or not. They're still my babies and they always will be._

" _All right, I'm going to head out."_

" _Hugs, Aunt Bewwa!"_

 _Lily throws herself into my arms for a hug, so I give her a big squeeze and kiss her button nose before settling her back on Edward's lap. He's hanging around for dinner, so I promise to see him Sunday morning and thank Rosalie for our coffee date this afternoon, then set off to fetch my children from Mom and Dad's._

 _It isn't until I've tucked Jace, Dillan, and Sadie into bed and plopped myself on the couch to catch up with some trashy TV that I realize...today was the first time in months that Edward asked me what I've been up to._

 _It's a silly little thing, really. It shouldn't even matter or be on my radar. It should be a big deal, but for him, for_ us _, it is._

 _I'm still smiling when I fall asleep hours later._

 **~ oOo ~**

"You look sad about that, Bella. Isn't improving the communication between the two of you one of the goals we set in our first session?"

I blink quickly, refocusing.

 _Right. I'm in Tanya's office._

"It's a _great_ thing," I tell her effusively. "But it's a bit...I don't know, bittersweet? I mean, isn't it sad that we had to break up to be able to talk like that again? We haven't had a calm, open conversation like that in...well, _years,_ probably."

Tanya smiles carefully. It's obvious she doesn't understand my frustration with the situation.

"Of course it's wonderful that we're able to talk and have those kinds of normal conversations that regular couples have, but it just…" I'm not making sense, I don't think. "I find it hard to accept that it had to come to _this_ for those conversations to be possible."

She nods, her ponytail swinging with the movement. "I see. It's been a month now, hasn't it?"

Swallowing hard, I nod. _Thirty-three days._

"Do you feel the same way about your separation now as you did when it initially happened?"

It's...actually a question I wasn't expecting. I take a few moments to think about it, realizing— "Yes." Sighing, I admit, "As much as I hate it, we just weren't working. We've grown apart, and he needs more than I can give him."

During our last session, we discussed what we thought were the reasons for our break-up. I was surprised that me kissing Demetri wasn't the first thing out of Edward's mouth, but it was actually "she doesn't love me anymore", which couldn't be further from the truth. Of course I still love him. I probably always will.

We're just not the best thing for each other anymore.

"Have you considered what _you_ need at all? Or are you just thinking about what Edward needs?"

"Oh, no. That's not...I know what you're getting at but you're wrong. I know I need things, too. I haven't been neglecting myself, I just...I think I always tiptoed around his feelings, you know? I knew he was pulling away and ignoring the issues in our marriage, but I thought if I kept pointing them out and nagging him, he'd pull away more. I thought I'd make it worse by drawing attention to it, but I was doing the opposite and making it _way_ worse than I ever could have by talking to him about it."

I blow out a long breath and try to find the words to explain how I'm feeling. "I tried, so many times, to talk to him about what was going wrong with our marriage, he just didn't want to hear it, or he was too…"

Reassurance swims in Tanya's eyes. "You can say it, Bella."

"Too drunk…he was too drunk to listen." I hate throwing Edward under the bus with his drinking. I know it isn't like he's been going to wild parties and living it up, but he _has_ been spending a small fortune on alcohol and the majority of his time outside of work holding up the bar at our local pub. In the early days, when his frequent pub visits began, I once left the children with Demetri and DJ and drove to Billy's pub to have it out with him. When I got there, I found him staring sadly at a photo of himself from Forks—before the accident. In his Forks High football gear and wearing a wide grin, he was all youth and pride. He was _healthy_ and _whole_.

He was happy.

I confronted him, much of my anger dissipated by the desolate look in his eyes when I tapped him on the shoulder and he realized he was caught.

.

.

 _Classic eighties tunes blare out of the jukebox in the corner, but it's Edward's voice I'm waiting for._

 _With furrowed brows, he tucks his photo back in his wallet before finally answering me._

" _What are you doing here?" he parrots._

" _I've come to get you…"_

" _You can go, Bella." Edward turns back to the bar, taking a long pull from the glass of whiskey in front of him. "I'll get a cab home. You didn't need to come."_

 _My eyes burn and a rock lands firmly in the pit of my stomach. "I don't...what are you_ doing _? This is the third night this week you've come home late...is this where you've been? Here, drinking?"_

 _A man appears in the corner of my eye—the owner or bartender, I assume. I ignore him._

" _Just...come home with me, please. We can talk about—"_

 _Edward scoffs and a fissure cracks my heart. "Talk about what? I just want a drink after work, is that a crime?"_

 _._

 _._

But it wasn't just 'a drink', was it? It was _a_ drink, and then another, and then another...until he stumbled home in the early hours of the morning, reeking of alcohol and the musty scent synonymous with pubs.

After that night, I tried waiting for him to sober up and have a clear head so we could talk about it properly, like adults. He brushed off my concern and promised it was a one-off; he swore it was just a bad week at work and it wouldn't become a pattern. Confident that he meant it, I trusted him. And then the following week, I spent every evening assuring our children that their daddy would be in to kiss them goodnight just as soon as he got home from work.

Every night that week, he was too inebriated to step foot in their rooms, let alone speak to them.

Over the course of the following year, we had the same discussion over and over and _over_ , me asking how I could help and what I could do to make things easier for him, while he assured me everything was fine and he was just joining his colleagues for celebratory drinks when they made a sale or had a good day at the office. After a while, he started to get angry with me when I so much as mentioned his drinking or reminded him to be home early after work for a family function, so I stopped pestering.

Stupidly, I believed him when he told me he'd slow down. And for a time, it worked. He _did_ start coming home straight after work and spending time with us again.

It didn't last.

Too embarrassed and upset at being played for a fool, I played ostrich and had his breakfast and lunch on the side for him every morning and a towel set out by the shower so he could wash the alcohol smell away when he stumbled in from the pub almost every night.

I enabled him. I enabled his behavior.

Looking back now...tears sting my eyes. It hurts to know I played a big part in this; that burying my head in the sand was the worst thing I could have done.

But it's the truth.

Handing me a wad of tissues, Tanya talks me through the plan for our next session— _with_ Edward.

"So, I'd like you to write down a list of the things you think you deserve in a relationship. The basics. And then I want you to write down the things you think someone deserves as your partner. Can you do that?"

Chewing my lip, I nod. "That sounds...okay. Yeah, I can do that."

"Good! All right, well we're done here for today. I'll see you on...Tuesday."

"Right, Tuesday."

The air is still balmy and warm when I step outside, the sky clear and perfect for the shoot on Beachy Head. I prepared for the possibility that I wouldn't have time to return to my studio between the session with Tanya and the shoot; my kit is packed in the trunk, and I've got a padded, sleeveless jacket and my wooly hat to keep me warm incase the temperature drops or it's particularly windy up on the cliffs.

Unfortunately, it's also rush hour, so I get stuck in traffic almost as soon as I turn out of the parking lot.

Drumming a random staccato on the steering wheel, I decide to call the one person I can always count on to keep the mood sunny and light. I feel like I need that after my reminiscing with Tanya. I listen to the dial tone for a few beats, then erupt with laughter at the words that blare through the car speakers.

" _Alexander Jackson Swan, don't you dare flush that phone!"_

"Yeah, AJ. Auntie Bella won't be able to play Clash with you if you flush it!" I call between giggles, hoping my nephew hears me.

There's some commotion before his cheeky voice fills the car. _"Hi, Aunt Bella. Have you upgraded your wizard towers today?"_

"Tell you what—give your dad the phone and I'll upgrade my towers _and_ send you a gift. How's that sound?"

" _I'll take that deal. Talk to you later!"_

A few moments later, my brother sighs down the line.

"Why was he threatening to flush your phone?"

" _I threatened to withhold Clash privileges,"_ Alex grumbles. _"What is it with that game, anyway?"_

" _You_ started it!" I remind him. "You're just sore because your five-year-old is a higher level than you."

" _Potato, potahto."_ There's a brief kerfuffle while he reminds AJ that he needs to wash up before dinner, then he comes back. _"To what do I owe the pleasure of your call, sis?"_

"I just thought I'd call, check in. It's been a while."

Alex hums. I wonder if he's considering asking about the session with Tanya today; he and Vanessa watched the children during our first session, so they know we've been going. Mom and Dad know about my session today and they always babysit Alex and Nessa's boys on Wednesday afternoons, so I know they'll have told them.

We're that kind of family—sometimes we overshare and meddle a little too much, but it's all out of love.

" _We still good for Saturday?"_

 _Right, Saturday. Dinner with Alex, Nessa, and my parents._

"Should be. I'm on call over the weekend for an overdue babaroo, though."

I'm extra excited about this newborn. The mama- and papa-to-be are friends of mine, and their soon-to-be daughter is a rainbow baby after they lost their son at fifteen weeks two years ago. It'll be an emotional affair when Siobhan goes into labor, but I'm excited for her and Liam. Plus, I have some amazing ideas for their two-week photoshoot and beyond. They've already booked in to have their little one photographed at two weeks, six months, and a year, so I'll have to get creative.

The dinner with my family will be...weird, because Edward will have Jace, Dillan, and Sadie. I already know it'll be odd without them— _all_ of them, Edward included. Every month, my family has a dinner party. We rotate between each other's houses. This time, it's at Alex and Nessa's, last month it was at Mom and Dad's, and next month, it'll be at our—uh, _my_ house.

As Alex fills me in on his busy day as a GP, I remind myself that it's not _our_ house anymore, not really. Edward has his two-bedroom apartment in Meads, and I have the house in Willingdon. It's odd to think of it that way, but since he lucked out with an apartment at a greatly reduced rent and moved in a week after our split, that's the only way to look at it. If I keep thinking he's about to walk back through the front door and claim his spot on the sofa, I'll never be able to accept that it's not going to happen.

 _It still kills me that it won't._

" _Dammit, Aro."_

I snort, listening to Alex as he gently chastises his almost-three-year-old, Aaron, for dumping out the toy box all over the living room floor—not for the first time today, apparently.

"I don't envy you right now, brother."

" _Laugh it up, sis. You've got the boys for a long weekend next week, remember."_

"Shit," I'm laughing, but I'm also picturing as many ways to nail furniture and breakable items to the walls and floor, because AJ and Aaron? They're _wild_. And when they've got the added back up of their three cousins—my usually-pretty-well-behaved children—they're something else entirely.

With everything else that's been going on recently, I'd forgotten that I agreed to have AJ and Aaron from next Friday to Monday while Alex and Nessa head to Gretna Green for their anniversary; they return to the place they got married every year. Mom and Dad and I rotate responsibility of the boys that weekend—of course this year would be my year. I'm sure they'd trade with me, they'd understand, but to be honest, the extra distraction will probably be nice.

That's what I'm going to keep telling myself, anyway.

Hearing the rather harried voice of my sister-in-law in the background, I promise not to be a stranger and remind Alex to tell AJ I'll be upgrading my wizard towers on Clash Of Clans later, then hang up and drive the rest of the way to the Belle Tout lighthouse in comfortable silence.

 **~ oOo ~**

Hours later, while I'm poring over the images from the beachy head shoot with a glass of wine to one side of my keyboard and a box of Guylian truffles on the other, I just about leap out of my damn chair when the shrill sound of the phone ringing starts up right beside me.

"Holy moly…" I pant, resting my forehead in my palm for a moment before sliding the phone from the cradle and raising it to my ear. "Hello?"

" _Bella, Bella, Bella!"_

Holding the phone slightly away from my ear—the cacophony of noise is enough to make my ears bleed even without the drunk squeals which are somehow louder—I shake my head and laugh. "Alice, where are you? It sounds like...hell, I don't even know. It's so loud!"

" _We're at that new bar in town! What's it called? Oh! Chevs!"_

Ah. Chevs opened up fairly recently; apparently the owner is some guy who used to be a local and moved back to town earlier this summer. I've heard good things, and if the racket coming through the phone is anything to go by, it's definitely popular.

"Well, it sounds like you're having a great time!" I tell her—loudly, because she asks me to repeat myself several times.

" _Ya know what, Bellaaa, just come dooooown. We'll get you a drinkypoo."_

"Oh, I don't think—"

I flinch as there's a _bang_ , muffled laughter, and then another familiar voice. _"C'mon, B. Don't you want to see me?"_

"Jake?" I breathe, smiling and swayed. "It's been too long! Why am I only finding out you're in town now?"

His deep voice is amused and only marginally more sober than Alice's. _"I only got into town this afternoon. I dropped Will with the folks and bumped into Ali-cat here on my way to grab dinner. Come join us. Like you said, it's been way too long."_

I _am_ tempted…

The last time I saw Jake was over nine months ago, when he and his boy Will followed his boyfriend and his job to Manchester. Two months later, Jake and Will were alone up there, but by then he had a good job and Will was settled in school, so...they stayed.

If I pass up the opportunity to see them now, I may not get another chance for a while…

"I don't have to dress up, do I? 'Cause I'm in sweats and a hoodie…"

Jake announces that I've caved, Alice squeals, and the other two girls they're with—presumably Alice's sisters, Cynthia and Brandi—join in the ruckus.

With a long-suffering sort of sigh, I save my progress on the computer and shut it down, heading upstairs toward my bedroom to find something to wear. I'm guessing marker-stained sweats and my old Forks High hoodie won't cut it, casual bar or not.

After he's told me where they're situated, Alice snatches the phone from Jake to tell me to wear the blue blouse she got me for my birthday and some 'nice trousers'. Then she hangs up with a 'mwah' and a screech of _we need shotssss_ right in my ear.

After rummaging through my closet for way too long, I mutter a curse and pull a pair of skinny jeans from the dresser and the blouse Alice mentioned. "Ah, she's probably too drunk to tell me off for the jeans, anyway," I tell myself as I slip into my worn-soft denim friends. To be fair, for being as old as they are, they've held up pretty well.

It's just Alice, Jake, Cynthia, and Brandi at a casual place, so I forego makeup but twist my hair up into a messy bun and give my face a quick once-over with a wet wipe on the way out the door.

 **~ oOo ~**

When I arrive at Chevs, I'm immediately glad I opted for jeans rather than dressy pants, like Alice suggested. Everyone loitering outside is dressed similarly to me, so I feel comfortable right away. Inside, the bar is strung with multi-colored fairy lights and there are neon decals lighting the shelves behind the oak bar. It looks...pretty darn cosy, actually. The dance floor is in the center of booths and small tables with mis-matched chairs, and the music playing is both relaxed and fairly modern.

In other words, it doesn't make me feel ancient like most of the crap youngsters play these days.

 _Aaaand that thought in itself makes me feel ancient. Jeez._

"Bellaaa!"

Spotting Alice and Jake in a booth in the back corner, I wave and motion that I'm going to grab a drink on my way over. The bar is busy, but I manage to slot into a gap between a crowd of rowdy revellers and wait my turn. It's been months since I came out like this, especially on a weeknight, so I feel a little out of place.

 _Big girl panties, Bella. You deserve to let your hair down._

It's true; I _do_ deserve a few drinks with friends. I never get to do this—I'm always home with Jace, Dillan, and Sadie while Edward's out downing JD and Mr. Beam. I can't even remember the last time Alice and I got together for a girl's night, and we used to have fortnightly catch-ups over cocktails. Then there's Jake; it's been a year or more since we had drinks together with God knows how long until we'll have another chance.

Not that I'd trade nights out and their subsequent hangovers for my babies, of course. They're my absolute world. I fought for them and prayed for them. The adoption process isn't—and wasn't—easy, not by a long stretch.

"What can I get you, miss?"

Blinking, I offer the bartender a blinding smile. At thirty-one, I'm no old maid, but I'm certainly not used to being called 'miss' these days. "I'll have a…uh...well, what do you recommend?"

His megawatt grin as he suggests a Purple Rain cocktail is enough to convince me. When he hands over the purple drink a couple of minutes later, I hum as I take the first sip. "Delicious! Great recommendation."

"Thanks. That'll be six-ninety, please."

I'm halfway to my purse when a heavy body slams into my side. Thankful that I'd put my drink down to pick up my purse, I yelp and grab the rail around the bar to steady myself, but the pair of large hands that land on my waist do a far better job.

"Shit, I'm sorry!" A smooth voice gushes in my ear as I right myself. Turning to face the guy who both knocked into me and saved me from hitting the deck, I'm in time to watch him mutter to himself, " _Bloody teenage wankers, always taking the mickey and dicking around_."

Pursing my lips, I feel giggles bubbling up my throat. "Could you _be_ more British?"

His bright blue eyes flash with surprise before wry amusement curls his lips. "Of course. Not only would I manage to crash into the most beautiful woman in this place, but she's also American. Are you all right?"

Flushing beet-red, I speak up so he can hear me. "I'm fine, thank you." Peering around him at the 'bloody teenage wankers' he referenced, I see they're avoiding my eyes and looking pretty bashful, too. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Perfectly fine, thank you. A little embarrassed, but nothing a pretty lady's name won't fix…"

As he trails off, I feel a ball of regret and shame crawling up my throat. "Bella."

He mouths my name, Blue Eyes' gaze widening as I purposefully pick up my drink with my left hand. My engagement and wedding rings catch the light and his focus; understanding dawns and his smile turns rueful.

"I see. Well, Bella, please let me get your drink as an apology for barging into you."

"Oh, you don't—"

"I insist." He's handing the bartender a twenty before I can say any more.

With a small sigh, I offer him a smile. "Thank you, that was very kind of you…?"

"Sam. Sam Talley." Sam extends his hand, gently shaking mine. "It was the least I could do after almost bulldozing you, though. Have a lovely evening, Bella."

"You, too, Sam."

Shaking my head and wondering if my almost-tumble was an omen for how tonight might go, I wade through the bodies on the dance floor until I reach the raised area at the back, where Alice, Jake, Cynthia, and Brandi are mid-shots.

Alice clocks me as she slams her glass down on the table. "Bellaaa—"

"Do you have to sing my name every time?"

Breezing over my question, she raises a full shot glass of clear liquid in my direction. "We got one for you!"

It's not nearly loud enough to warrant her shouting. I tell her this as I slide into the booth beside her.

"Pish posh." Looping her arm around my shoulders, she rests her brunette head on my arm. "I'm so glad you're here, B."

Snorting a laugh, I pat her head and take the shot from her hand before she tips it all over me. "I'm glad, too, Alice."

The shot of...well, whatever it is...burns on the way down and tastes how I imagine bleach does.

 **~ oOo ~**

"Dance with me!" Alice fixes her big, slightly glazed, baby-blues on me. "C'mon!"

Pleasantly buzzed from the couple of shots the gang talked me into and the three Purple Rains I've had since, I let Alice drag me onto the dance floor to join Jake and Brandi. Cynthia stays in the booth to save our seats, but she's too busy sucking face with her boyfriend to notice we've left.

 _Ah, young love._

I'm not really a modern music fan, so I'm surprised but happy that the people who run Chevs seems to be into my kind of music— _real_ music, not all that techno junk taking over the charts these days.

Jake and I mostly dance around Alice; she's got better moves than both of us combined but my pint-sized friend is also a million miles past sober and a definite fall risk. To be fair, she deserves to let her hair down. She has triplets at home who are almost two years old, so I'm not surprised she's letting loose tonight. Brayden, Hattie, and Jayden are almost as wild as my nephews.

As for me...this is my first night out in way too long. I haven't got any clients tomorrow, just a day of editing and running errands until I pick the children up from school and nursery. After I'd explained this—and the fact that Edward asked to keep Jace, Dillan, and Sadie for an extra night so I don't need to rush home to relieve a sitter—Jake talked me into another shot.

The heavy, seductive beat of a new song begins. Alice pulls me into her arms to croon the lyrics into my ear. Laughter bubbles out of me, the undulating roll of different colored lights overhead and the fun evening I've had making me feel buoyant and free for the first time in _so_ long. It's a wonderful feeling.

Until it's not.

Across the room, over Alice's shoulder, I spy a beautiful blonde. She has long hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back, which I notice is almost completely bare as she flips her tresses and laughs at something her companion says. A note of familiarity stirs in the back of my mind when she turns, beaming at the man beside her, but I don't _know_ her...

I freeze, holding my breath. A heavy lead rock lands in my gut and takes my heart with it as she reaches out, squeezing the shirt-clad arm of her...friend? Date?

The music drowns it out, but I can hear his chuckle in my mind as he grins and nods at whatever she's said. My stomach free falls toward the ground, my breath rushing from my lungs in one big, painful rush. It's taken me a month to patch my heart up so I can function for my babies, and one night to undo it all.

Obviously following my gaze and realizing something is wrong, Alice stops flinging herself around and turns, stretching to see across the sea of writhing dancers.

Turning back to me with a frown and pursed lips, she asks, "Isn't that…?"

I nod slowly, suddenly feeling as though I'm about to lose my dinner and the drinks that came after it. "That's Edward."

* * *

 ***peeks out through fingers***

 **Please feel free to come join me on Facebook-I have the same name there as I do here and I'd love to chat with you!**


	8. Baby Steps

**Hello again! I've had a busy week, some technical issues, yada yada yada. You don't really care about that, I know, you just want to kick some sense into our Edward and Bella ;) I'll let you get to it and just say thank you to all you wonderful readers, reviewers, and fic pimps. Without you all, I'd just be writing angst fests for myself and that's just sad. I love each and every one of you, mwah!**

 **Standard disclaimer applies. S Meyer owns all recognizable Twilight characters, no copyright infringement is intended, the kiddos are all mine (I wish!) Etc etc. On with the show!**

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

 **Dandelions**

 **Baby Steps**

 _ **October, 2004...thirteen years ago**_

 _._

 _._

" _Have you got your—"_

" _Yes, Mom," I sigh, shooting Dad a long-suffering smile and miming shooting myself in the temple. He snorts, almost blowing our cover as Mom spins to look between us with narrowed eyes._

" _Ren, Bella's a big girl. I'm sure she's packed everything."_

" _She may be a big girl in_ your _eyes, Charlie, but she's still_ my _little girl."_

 _As Mom turns back to whatever she's doing on the counter, Dad shrugs like 'what're you gonna do?' and mouths that I'm on my own._

 _Great. Thanks, Dad._

" _Mom, I've got everything I need. I'm only going for the weekend, remember, not a century."_

" _But it's hotter down in Florida, baby. You need sunscreen and a hat and some shorts to get some color on you wouldn't be so—"_

" _Mom!"_

" _Renee!"_

 _Dad and I chorus in sync, jinxing each other with silly grins. Mom just shakes her head at us as she zips up one of Dad's spare lunch bags and holds it out to me._

" _I made PB and J, your favorite. There's also some fruit in there, a couple of juice boxes, and some small snacks to put in your pockets to stop your ears popping on the plane."_

 _She may be a touch annoying, but my Mom...she's pretty great. The best, actually._

 _Wrapping my arms around her and resting my head against her shoulder as she squeezes me back, I breathe my thanks into her soft, shiny hair. "Thank you, Mom. Sorry for being a brat."_

" _Don't mention it, honey. And don't worry, I'll cash in on your proper apology when you get home. The lawn's looking a bit scraggly…"_

" _Aw, Mom…" Yeah, that's me—the eighteen-year-old whining like a toddler. In my defense, the mower is a gazillion years old and heavier than me and Alex combined; last summer, we had to use our combined weight just to push the damn thing._

" _C'mon, Bells. We better get you to the airport or you're gonna miss your flight out to see loverboy."_

 _Nothing cheers me up like talk of my 'loverboy', as Dad calls him. It's been a month since I saw Edward last; he flew back to Forks to surprise me for my eighteenth birthday after apologizing for weeks on end about not being able to see me in person. Mom and Dad have put me on a phone restriction after we stayed on the phone for four hours the week after he moved down to Tallahassee to get settled in ahead of his classes starting, so I'm excited to have no restrictions, no time limits...just a weekend with Edward._

 _Now, it's my turn to fly out and surprise him. He's got a big game tomorrow, and for the first time, I'll be in the stands cheering as his official girlfriend._

 _As Mom reminds Dad not to dawdle back from dropping me off—they have dinner plans with the Reeds', our neighbors—I stare at the pretty ring on my left pinky finger. Edward gave it to me the day before he set off for college. It's got our initials engraved on the inside and a tiny green stone on the outside, because he knows it's my favorite color._

" _Okay, honey. Have a great time. Take lots of pictures. I packed the camera in your carry-on."_

" _Great, thanks, Mom. I'll call you when I land, okay?"_

 _Mom stands on the porch to wave us off, and Dad bitches about my excited bouncing all the way to Seattle._

 _Just as I'm about to board the plane, Edward texts._

 _ **Wish you were here, Swan x**_

 _I'm grinning like a total muppet as I respond_ _ **Me, too, Cullen xo**_ _, knowing he's not even a little bit onto me and has no idea I'm already on my way to him._

 _._

 _._

 **~ i ~**

 _ **Present time...June 20th, 2018**_

My heart thumps in my ears as Alice leads me over to our booth; blinking hard, I will myself to see someone else, _anyone else_ , sitting over there with the blonde.

It's still him.

By now, Jake's obviously realized what's going on, too. He crouches in front of me as I perch on the edge of the bench seat, unable to take my eyes off the pair across the room.

"All right, Bella, let's not jump to conclusions. They could just be friends—"

"Right now, I don't _care_ who she is," I admit, my stomach rolling. "What I care about is that he _asked_ to keep our children for another night, and he's left them with God-knows-who to come out drinking."

I've never told my friends about Edward's propensity for ignoring his family to focus on alcohol, but as Jake peers into my eyes, I wonder if I've been as good at hiding it as I thought I was. Sympathy and worry swims in his dark gaze as he squeezes my knee.

"What do you want to do, Bella? We can go leave through the side exit so we don't have to go past—"

"No. No, I…" Blowing out a long breath, I steel myself. "I need to speak to him."

"Atta girl. C'mon, then."

As Jake clears the way for us to cross the dance floor, I try to clear my head. Shots and cocktails... they're not all that great at letting me think clearly. Picturing my babies as we step up behind Edward and the blonde, I feel anger igniting in my chest. I don't care _who_ this woman is; she can't be more important than our children, who were so damn excited to be spending another night with their daddy.

I briefly wonder what I'm going to say, but it doesn't matter in the end. He spots me and jumps off his bar stool like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Bella? What are you...what are you doing here?"

The anger leeches out of me. I just feel bone-weary and exhausted, my happy-tipsy buzz completely obliterated.

"Where are they, Edward?" I sigh.

His eyes glow deep, dark emerald in the lights. I don't know if it makes me feel better or worse to see guilt there. "With Em and Rose. Bella, I'm sorry, I—"

"Oh, what a lovely surprise!"

Edward gets cut off by his companion throwing her long arms around me. I'm momentarily blinded by her hair and breathless from her overpowering perfume, but as she pulls back, her saccharine sweet smile doesn't fool me in the slightest. It may be a surprise to see me here, but it's definitely not lovely—at least not in this woman's eyes. Up close, I realize she's…

"Irina, right? From Edward's office."

She nods, her ice blue eye narrowed slightly. "We met at the Christmas party."

I remember. The first Christmas after Edward got his new job, we went to their Christmas party at a local hotel. Irina was there, hanging all over her husband _—_ one of the managers, I believe _—_ but I notice her ring finger is now empty but for a faint tan line and her body language tells me she has a new target.

Edward, who looks like he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

"Look, this isn't what it looks li—"

Ever since I saw him with her, everything has seemed dull and muffled. It all comes rushing back in like a tsunami; the loud music, the bodies dancing and writhing at my back, and the headache beginning to work its way through my skull.

"Let's just...let's talk about this tomorrow, okay? This isn't the time or place."

He nods, resigned, and shoots a surprised look over my shoulder as Jake rests a hand at my back to guide me around the edge of the dance floor. His eyes are guarded as he says, "I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Sure."

 **~ i ~**

It does and doesn't surprise me when Edward knocks on the door shortly after nine the following morning.

Honestly, I feel terrible. I don't drink regularly so even just the few drinks I had last night are enough to give me a dull headache this morning. I'm on my second glass of water when I hear a car pulling onto the driveway; frowning, I wander into the living room in time to see Edward climbing out of his car.

"Shit." I take a moment to gather my thoughts before heading into the hall to unlock the door and open it up.

As soon as I lay eyes on Edward, I snort. "We both look like shit."

He's got a cap on to hide what is doubtlessly a clusterfuck of copper hair and his eyes are both red and underscored by dark smudges. His lips kick up on one side in a rueful smile. "Glad it's not just me. Can I, uh…" I watch him take off his cap so he can rake a hand through his hair. "Can I come in? I think we need to talk about last night."

"I think we do," I agree softly, turning away to walk through to the kitchen. I hear the _click_ of the door behind me followed by his footsteps, so I know he took my silent invitation to come in. In the kitchen, I lean against the counter by the window overlooking the backyard; Edward takes one of the stools at the breakfast bar. For the longest time, neither of us says anything.

"I want to apologize for what happened yesterday, Bella. I know it looked bad, but it really wasn't what it looked like."

Blowing out a breath, I set down my glass of water and meet his gaze. His expression is riddled with apology and regret. "It _looked_ like a date, but I know I have no right to be annoyed with you for that—"

"No, Bella—"

" _Please_ , just...let me finish?"

Edward nods, tenting his hands in front of him, so I continue.

"I don't have any right to be mad at you for dating, I know I don't. I left, Edward." A lump lodges itself in my throat. "I left, so it's nothing to do with me what you do with your love life. Dating other people hasn't even crossed my mind, but if that's what you want, I can't complain. I think it's only fair I get a heads up as you expect the same thing from me…" I trail off, remembering. I wonder if he still thinks I'll end up with Demetri. The truth is, I've been avoiding Demetri like the plague. Jace and Dillan have asked when they get to hang out with DJ and I've put them off. It'll only last so long, but I think Demetri is avoiding me, too. If he weren't, he easily could have come over to our place, but he hasn't.

I'm glad. I honestly don't know what I'd do or say. I'm mortified when I think of that kiss, short though it may have been, and the way I cried on him the following morning when he returned to find his cell. In his hasty retreat, he hadn't noticed he was even missing it until the next day.

Shaking off thoughts of Demetri, I refocus on Edward, on this conversation that I never thought we'd have to have. I never thought we be _that couple_. I never thought we'd end.

"I just... _you_ asked to keep the children another night, Edward. _You_ asked, and even though it was my day, I let you. Then you go out _drinking_ of all things!"

I was up all night reliving the evening, wondering, hoping. I'm not lying—I _know_ I don't really have a right to be upset that Edward might be moving on. I _did_ leave. Honestly, I never expected him to move on this quick, though. We've been living apart for a month and seeing a marriage counsellor.

But like I said, it's not the date I'm upset about. It's the fact that he specifically asked to keep the children to spend more time with them and then went out.

Before he can speak, I admit, "I spoke to Rose a little while ago."

Surprise lights Edward's eyes as he cocks his head. "You did?"

"Mmhm. She couldn't remember the name of Sadie's classroom and Sadie's taken a vow of silence as of this morning."

Edward's eyebrows jumped up his forehead. I had pretty much the same reaction, actually. Sadie's many things, but quiet definitely isn't one of them. "A vow of silence? Why?"

"Rose wouldn't let her have candy for breakfast."

"Oh," he mouths. "So...she explained what happened, I guess?"

"She did."

.

.

 _The ringing of my cell makes me jump. The angry gnomes crashing around my poor, aching skull do an extra jig until I manage to hit the button to answer the call._

" _Hello?"_

" _Bella! Thank God. Okay, so I'm at Sades' nursery. How the hell do I get to her classroom from the main entrance? Right or left?"_

 _Frowning and downing the last of my water, I tell her, "Left. She's in the last room on the left with Mrs. Anderson. Why didn't you just ask her? She knows where it is."_

 _Rosalie sighs then hisses at Lily to hurry. "She's taken a vow of silence. Don't ask."_

 _But of course, I do. "Why?"_

 _Okay, laughing hurts. Let's not do_ that _again for a very long time._

" _I wouldn't let her have chocolate buttons for breakfast."_

 _With an exasperated sigh, I ask, "Could you put her on, please?"_

" _Sure, one sec. Here you go, Sades."_

 _A few seconds later, my daughter's sweet voice chimes in my ear. "G'morning, Mama."_

 _I stifle a laugh as Rosalie loudly exclaims, "Oh, so you'll take to her, huh? I see how it is, kiddo."_

" _Baby, you know you don't eat chocolate for breakfast. Please apologize to Auntie Rose and quit the cheekiness or you won't be having the iPad later."_

" _Okay, Mama. I'll be good." Away from the phone, she apologizes to Rosalie in the sweetest, most polite tone I've ever heard her use on anyone. I smile to myself when she comes back to me. "I gotta go nursery now. Love you, Mama!"_

" _I love you, Sadie. Be good for Mrs. Anderson and I'll see you at lunchtime, okay?"_

"' _Kay!"_

 _Rosalie asks me to hold on while she signs Sadie into class, so I lean against the kitchen counter and watch the boughs of the tree sway in the backyard. When she comes back to me, I can hear the stress in her tone._

" _I'm not looking forward to doing the school run with Lily five days a week. Other parents are assholes."_

 _Just to make Rosalie even happier, Lily loudly shouts, "Assholes!"_

" _Oh for God's sake…" After listening to Rosalie buckling Lily into the car and reminding her not to use 'grown-up words', I ask what she wanted to talk to me about._

" _Oh, right. Edward called this morning, so I just wanted to clear up what happened yesterday."_

 _Slightly mortified, I palm my flaming cheek. "Oh, Rose, it's not—"_

" _No, no, I know what you're going to say. It's got nothing to do with me and it's between you and Edward. You're partly right, but not all the way. It's my buffoon of a husband's fault, if anyone's to blame. He went in to see Edward at work and caught the tail end of a conversation about his colleagues wanting to take him out to dinner for his birthday, and to celebrate some big sale..?"_

 _She trails off, obviously expecting me to agree about the sale and how great it is, but the truth is I had no idea about it until two seconds ago. After an awkward pause, Rosalie clears her throat._

" _Anyway, you know Em and I had the kiddies while Edward worked yesterday afternoon, but we were the ones who kidnapped them in the evening. We bumped into him at The Harvester and ate dinner with them. Em insisted we keep Jace, Dill, and Sades so he could go to his work drinks, or whatever it was. If we'd known it was going to cause trouble we never would have done it, B."_

 _The maelstrom of emotions I've been feeling since spotting Edward and Irina at the bar last night start to evaporate._

 _I'm still a little irritated that I lost a night with the children for no real reason—Edward could have said 'no' and spent the evening with them as planned—but it makes slightly more sense now. Edward's reaction makes more sense._

 _The unease that's been tying my stomach in knots overnight slightly loosens its grip._

" _B? You still there?"_

" _Yep, yeah. I'm here." Sighing, I say, "Thank you for explaining things. I won't pretend I'm not embarrassed you've been pulled into it—"_

" _Don't be silly, Bella. If anything, we dragged ourselves into it, unknowingly or not." To Lily, she says, "Stop eating the seatbelt, you crazy child."_

 _Snorting, I hang my head and close my eyes; a small smile curls my lips._

" _Anyway, what happened? He called in a right panic saying he'd upset you and he thought you'd gotten the wrong idea."_

" _I was at Chevs with Jake, Alice, Cynthia, and Brandi and I spotted him with Irina. It was just the two of them, so I didn't realize it was a whole work thing. I didn't see anybody else with them." Looking out at a little bird as he hops along the windowsill, I admit, "But it wasn't even_ that _I was angry about, really. It was the fact that he asked to keep the children an extra night and went out drinking."_

 _The simple truth is that I miss my babies like hell when they're not with me. If Edward was the desperate to go out last night he could have dropped the children off to me. I'd like to say 'no questions asked', but I know I would have been pissed at him for ditching them to go drink at a bar, so I guess that's why he didn't ask. I get it, I just don't like it. Knowing there will be plenty more occasions where we're in this same situation is like a hard slap in the face. Parenting as part of a couple can be tricky; co-parenting when living apart is going to be even more so._

 _Rosalie hisses. "So that's what he meant. He said 'it was all a set up', I suppose he was talking about her. It was_ meant _to be a whole team thing, but I'm guessing it was just them and that's why he was so frantic."_

 _With a frown, I consider the icy look in Irina's eyes and the way she was clearly bothered by my presence. Shaking it off, I turn away from the window. "It's just…I don't know. It was all so unexpected, seeing him there when I thought he was having an evening with the children."_

" _I get it, B, I do," Rosalie tells me softly, sympathetically. "I'd beat the shit out of Em if we ever broke up and I thought he was dating a month later, especially if said date was taking place when he was supposed to have Lily and Henry."_

 _Picturing exactly that, I can't help but laugh even though it hurts my poor head. "It's up to Edward what he does, Rose."_

" _It'd be a bit weird, though, wouldn't it? I mean, you're going to couples therapy or whatever you call it."_

" _It's…I don't know. It's not just couples counselling, I guess. He's been seeing our therapist to start to deal with his issues around the accident, too."_

 _A few beats later, in an uncharacteristically hesitant tone, she asks the million dollar question. The question I've been asking myself over and over._

" _Do you think you'll get back together with him, or is this it for you guys?"_

 _._

 _._

With a heavy sigh, Edward rakes a hand through his hair and eyes me.

I feel like we're a million miles apart emotionally, but he's still warmth, comfort, and _home_ to me. I don't know how to shake this feeling of still wanting him, and I don't know if I even want to. It kills me to wake up every day without him; to know he's waking up across town alone, too. When I have the children, all I feel is guilt for leaving him without them.

But is that a good enough reason to get back together? That's if he would even want to. At this point, my self-confidence is shaken. I haven't been able to stop thinking about Rosalie's question since she asked it over an hour ago now. Even before she voiced it, it's something I've thought about on and off. The idea of this being it, of us being over forever, is terrifying. For thirteen years we've been _Edward-and-Bella—_ almost one person, one entity. I'm not used to being just _Bella_ , just myself. It's scary. Unexpected. Confusing.

We agreed that we would always be honest with our feelings and communicate with each other. After all, we know that's been a huge stumbling block for our relationship in the last couple of years.

"I don't know what it's like to just...be me," I admit, my cheeks heating with the admission. "And I don't know what it's like to see you as _just you_. We've been _us_ for so long, I...I don't know if I'm even making sense."

"You are, Bella. You're making total sense. As for the dating thing? You, thinking I was on a date...it made me realize that I'm so not looking for anything like that. I don't know where we are or what we're doing...the therapy, the children, everything else...but I know I'm not anywhere close to wanting to date anyone else or even fully accept that we might be over."

Tears sting my eyes, because everything he just said resonates deeply with me. It's everything I've been feeling but haven't been able to put into words.

"I'm really sorry for what happened last night, Bella," Edward murmurs. My eyes find his apologetic gaze and I know he's being honest. "I never want to upset you, but I know I've done that plenty recently. Last night was…" blowing out a big breath, he shakes his head. "A shit-show, honestly. It was supposed to be a whole team thing, but the others all bailed and it ended up just being me and Irina."

I suspect there's a lot more to it than that, but I don't think that's Edward's fault, so I opt not to voice it. Bad-mouthing his colleague and friend is a surefire way to spoil the good line of communication we've currently got open.

"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have barged in on your evening."

"You don't need to apologize. You did nothing wrong." Twisting his watch around his wrist _—_ the one the children gave him for his birthday _—_ Edward purses his lips. "I should have called and at least let you know what was going on. I _could_ have, easily, but I just...I'll be straight with you. I knew you'd be mad, and I've really enjoyed not pissing you off recently."

We share tentative, tiny smiles.

His candor is new. For so long, it's felt like I've had to trick the truth out of him. It's refreshing to get it without any effort on my part.

 _Baby steps._

 **~ i ~**

There's no greater joy after a day of moping around the house than seeing my boys' smiles when I go to pick them up at the end of the day.

Sadie wiggles on my hip but there's no way I'm putting her down. She's had her promised fifteen minutes on the playground jungle gym, but losing her in the sea of people that will soon disperse when the children are excused from their classrooms is not on my to-do list today _—_ or any day, actually.

"Mama, where's Jay an' Dilly?"

Brushing some bouncy blonde curls away from her face, I lay a quick kiss on her temple and eye the doors in front of us. "They'll be out in a minute, and then we'll go home."

Gently swinging her little legs while we wait, Sadie rests her head on my shoulder and sings a tune to herself. I can't help but smile and hug her a bit tighter.

Both Edward and I shared our concerns that us living apart would negatively affect the children. We haven't sat them down and made a big deal about it, but we did explain what was going on in terms they could understand at the tender ages of three and six.

 _Daddy is going to live in a new house where you can go have fun sleepovers and play, but Mama is going to stay at the house so that isn't going to change._

The new schedule was harder to explain. Sadly, I think that was more because Jace, Dillan, and Sadie were _used_ to not seeing Edward very much, especially during the week. Their Wednesday after-school date was odd for them the first week. After all, they're used to him promising to spend time with them after school only to stay out until they're in bed.

When he dropped them off after their first Wednesday going to his place after school, all of them were on cloud nine _—_ Edward included.

Last Wednesday, the children were all-smiles when I dropped them off and reminded them they were seeing their daddy right after school, and they were the same this Tuesday when I dropped them off; perhaps even more so because they were also getting to sleep over and wake him up on his birthday.

 _Then it all went to shit_ , I think wryly, _but today's another day and we've worked through it._

The doors leading into Jace and Dillan's classroom opens with a collective sigh of relief from all the people waiting. They're always late out.

Sadie and I wait for our boys to charge out with their classmates, my frown deepening when they don't appear and their teacher catches my eye, waving me over. Hitching Sadie up higher, I quickly stride across the asphalt and step into the classroom. Dillan offers me a small, anxious smile when I spot him on a beanbag chair in the reading corner, but Jace is too busy scowling down at his wringing hands to notice that I've even arrived.

 _Uh oh. It's clearly been a bad day._

"What's going on?" I ask Mrs. Taylor softly, setting Sadie on the floor. She immediately runs over to join her brothers, chattering away; Dillan indulges her, but Jace is in his own little world. It breaks my heart to see him that way. I want to run over and wrap him up in my protective embrace, but I need to know what's wrong first so I know how to handle it.

Mrs. Taylor's hazel eyes are worried as she gently leads me over to her desk. There's already an adult-sized plastic chair beside it, so she obviously knew we were going to have this chat. "We've had a few issues with Jace today, but nothing major, so please don't panic." As she speaks, the classroom door opens and I relax a little, although my shoulders are still tense and my hands clasped tightly in my lap.

Jace's TA offers me a friendly smile as she joins us, shooting Jace a quick look. Angela Cheney has been an absolute godsend since she was assigned to my son. He's calmer in her presence, and she has a bond with him that allows him to relax from a meltdown with her. Before Angela came along, I would get almost daily calls asking me to come in for some reason or another.

 _Jace has freaked out because some paint spilled on him, the classroom is too loud, he lashed out because he doesn't like the lesson._

It was a never-ending issue and something that left me terrified for him. He and Dillan...they're two peas in a pod as well as twins. When suggestions of sending him to a different school where he could get more support started being thrown around, Edward and I talked about it, the pros and cons. In the end, we decided it was too early to give up on Jace attended mainstream school; too early to give up on him being able to stay with Dillan and the few friends he'd struggled all year to make.

A month later, we met Angela Cheney and fell in love. Jace, too. She won him over with her cartoonish drawings of his favorite Disney character, Stitch. It still took time for them to bond _—_ my boy isn't as outgoing as his siblings _—_ but now he misses her like crazy during school holidays and insists we get her gifts for all the major holidays like Christmas, Valentines, Halloween…and for her birthday a few months ago, he got her a beautiful bunch of flowers she displayed in their classroom.

My mom jokes by saying he's got a crush, but I think he's just lucky that he's found a confidante in Angela, someone who understands him and appreciates him for his quirks and differences, like we, his family, do.

As she pulls over a child's seat and turns it to sit on it backwards but facing us, Angela sighs. "This is a little awkward, actually. I think I managed to figure out what's eating Jace."

"What? Please, tell me. He's been so relaxed and happy recently, I hate to see him stressed and out of sorts."

Casting another quick glance at him, Dillan, and Sadie, Angela winces. "He had a blip this morning just after we got inside. One of the other kids got a bit too up in his space but we had some time in the quiet corner and he seemed okay for the rest of the morning. At lunch, he refused to eat, and he's been unsettled all afternoon…" she trails off, her dark eyes refusing to meet mine.

"A couple of the other students had a little bit of a fallout _—_ it's okay!" she rushes to calm me when my eyes fly open wide and I straighten up. "Jace wasn't actually involved at all, it just upset him. It was weird, though...he kept trying to take the blame even though I _know_ he had nothing to do with it."

Sadie runs over then, tugging at the zipper of her lightweight jacket. "Mama, please unzip me. I'm hot."

After unzipping her, I gently urge her back over to her brothers. Swallowing hard, I absentmindedly twist my wedding and engagement rings around my finger. "I think I know what this is about."

Now I realise why Angela said this was embarrassing, because she knows, too. Of course, she and Mrs. Taylor are aware of what's going on with Edward and I.

 _I should've seen this coming._

"It's not his fault…" I whisper around the lump in my throat.

Reaching over to squeeze my hand, Mrs. Taylor clucks. "Of course it isn't. I think, deep down, he knows that. Children often have a hard time with their emotions when something like a parental separation takes place, but Jace feels so deeply that it's bound to affect him in different ways than it might affect other children. That's not on _you_ , either."

Angela softly agrees. "I don't want to interfere, Bella, it's not really my place to say, but I think Jace may just need a little more reassurance about what's going on, where and when he'll be going places, etcetera."

I chew my lip. "Has he been worrying about that, too?"

"A little, but really, only a little. A couple of times, he's asked where he's going or who will be picking him up when the school bell rings. You mentioned a schedule change a couple of weeks ago...how's that going?"

"Well, I _thought_ it was going well. Edward has the children Wednesday afternoons and then Friday after school until Sunday morning. They've seemed comfortable with the adjustment until this." Breathing out a sigh and dashing a couple of stray tears from under my eyes, I try to organize my thoughts and feelings. "Do you think we were wrong to change it again so soon after…" _we separated._

"No, I don't," Angela admits easily. "The boys have both told me they're enjoying spending time with Edward after school. They wouldn't quit talking about spending the night with him before his birthday."

We chit-chat for a little longer before I decide it's time to get my babies home and have a little chat with my boy. Angela gives Jace their customary, secret handshake to say _goodbye_ before I scoop Jace into my arms, Dillan and Sadie trailing along at my side _—_ Sadie between Dillan and I, my hand in one of hers, her brother's in the other.

Sadie jibber-jabbers non-stop all the way home. Dillan is always a bit quieter when his twin is struggling with something, and Jace is totally silent. They always have bounced off each other's energy so of course, today is no different.

After unloading the children and the groceries Sadie and I picked up on the way to get the boys, I herd them into the kitchen for an after-school snack of sliced apples and peanut butter. Dillan and Sadie like the chunky kind straight out of the refrigerator, but Jace will only eat it perfectly smooth and at room temperature. Watching Jace pick at his apple slices, I can't stifle the pang of guilt, and disgust at myself.

 _How did I not notice my boy was worrying about this?_ _Am I a terrible parent?_

I've been so careful to always be cheerful in and to keep things as normal as possible for the children even though my whole world is imploding, I forgot to accept that things _are_ different. This whole situation...it's _not_ normal. Not for us, not yet. I can't pretend it is any longer, for my sake or for Jace's _—_ or Sadie's or Dillan's.

"Dillan, Sadie, do you want to finish those in the living room?"

Sadie cocks her head to one side like an adorable little puppy. "Can we watch TV?"

"Sure."

"'Kay!" Hopping down from her barstool, she stretches back up on her tiptoes to grab her Strawberry Shortcake plate of apples and peanut butter. Dillan tags along after a hesitant look at his brother; I ruffle his hair as he trudges past me into the living room. Once the TV is on and my two youngest babies are settled on the couch, I head back into the kitchen. Jace is right where I left him with his arms flat on the counter in front of him, his chin resting on them. As I round the counter, I see that he's staring across the room at our family planner.

More specifically, at the picture pinned to the top.

"Do you remember that day, baby?"

He blinks at my question, shrugging.

Carefully untacking the photo, I carry it back over to him, setting it on the quartz top. I can't help but smile down at the image. Edward and I are in the center, baby Sadie in my arms, Jace and Dillan in his.

 _The day we got to bring_ all _our babies home for the first time._

Sadie was three weeks old, the boys three years old. Edward and I have the biggest, sappiest smiles on our faces and Jace and Dillan...they're beaming. Relaxed and goofy, my sweet little boys who are growing into even sweeter, more kind, caring boys by the day. They've each shot up by miles since this picture, their faces less chubby, hair a bit shorter but no less wild. But those smiles...they break my heart and patch it back up at the same time.

And now we're here, my son looking distraught and I have no idea how to fix this for him.

Crouching slightly so we're eye level, my arms resting beside his and my fingers close enough to his small hands that if he wants to, he can take them, I breathe his name softly. His big blue eyes lift to find my face.

"Jay, sweetheart, Daddy and I…"

He flinches. "It's my fault, isn't it? I'm too annoying so Daddy m-moved."

Tears rush to fill my eyes. "Oh, baby, no! No, you're not annoying. God, come here." Rounding the counter and lifting him into my arms, I pray he won't squirm away from me. I need him. Thankfully, he doesn't pull away. After a pause, he loops his arms around my neck and squeezes me tight, his face buried in my hair.

"Jace, my sweet Jay...Daddy moved out because...because he and I need a little space from each other, not from you. _Never_ from you. Daddy and I love you, Jay. You, Dillan, and Sadie, you're our whole world and perfect _just the way you are_."

The last six months or so, Jace has started to notice that he's different _—_ or rather, other children have started to point it out to him. It breaks my heart, honestly. However it's happened, he's started to get it into his head that he's _less than_ his siblings, and I hate it. I'll spend every single day of my life telling him that he's perfect until he believes it as much as I do, if I have to.

Pulling back a little to peer into my wet eyes, he purses his lips and furrows his brows. Reaching up with a gentle hand, Jace gently wipes the corners of my eyes before his lips curl up slightly and he plants a quick kiss on the end of my nose, just as I do to him and his siblings when they're hurt or sad.

"Jace, sweetheart, Daddy and I love you so very much. Him living somewhere else…" I want to say 'is temporary', but as I don't know if that's the truth or not, I won't. I don't want to give him false hope. "Him living somewhere else is not because of you or anything you or Dillan or Sadie have done, okay? Do you understand?"

"I understand," he tells me softly.

"Promise me, sweetheart."

"I _promise_ ," he says again; a little firmer this time, like he's exasperated with me. I'll take exasperated over sad any day.

Smiling against his forehead, I breathe him in and kiss his hair before sitting him on the countertop. He eyes me speculatively. "Mama?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can we go to the park this weekend?"

"Of course _—_ "

"With Daddy?" he bites his lip for a moment _—_ a habit he's picked up from me _—_ and ducks his head to speak toward his sneakers. "I mean, all of us could go feed the ducks or play on the swings. It might be fun."

My heart thumps hard as I gently chuck him on the chin and lower my head so we're eye-to-eye. "i think you're right; that _would_ be fun. Shall I call him and ask?"

Already brighter, he nods eagerly. "Yeah, okay."

He twiddles my hoodie toggles as I dial his dad, his gorgeous blue peepers lifting to my face and his long lashes framing them when I murmur, "Hello, Edward."

" _Bella, is everything okay?"_ There's some noise and a _thud_ before he asks, _"Are you all right?"_

I internally berate myself. Of course he'll worryabout an out-of-the-blue call like this. I never call him randomly during the day. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to panic you. I didn't think…" Huffing, I reach up to tickle Jace's neck. He twists to get away from my fingers but giggles all the same; it's a sound that always fills me with joy.

"I was just wondering... _Jace_ was wondering, if you'd like to come to the park with us this weekend."

" _Oh, umm…"_

For a moment, I wonder if calling in front of Jace was the best decision. If Edward blows us off like I think he's about to, our boy has a front row seat.

" _I'd love to,"_ he finally breathes. I can hear the smile in his voice; it makes mine widen. _"Saturday or Sunday?"_

I glance at the calendar on the fridge. "Uh, Sunday works best for me. I have a shoot on Saturday. Is that...does that work for you?"

" _Sunday is great. Uh, listen, can I call you back a bit later to sort times and stuff? I've got this client on the other line…"_

 _He prioritized us._

I mean...he's at work and I should have thought about that, but for the first time in a long time, he prioritized us _._

I tell him to get on with work and apologize again for disturbing him, but the grin on my face remains even as Jace abandons me for the movie Dillan and Sadie are watching, and it persists even when the children drive me crazy five minutes later arguing over which movie to watch next. I feel bad for disrupting Edward at work, but it feels nice to be on such good terms with him, to know that we can still do things as simple as taking our children to the park together.

I just hope it lasts and this good run we're on never comes to an end.

These baby steps we've been taking...they give me hope.

* * *

 **So, how're we doing? Hanging in there?**


	9. We're Both Changing Side By Side

**Hey there, gang! Still hanging in? So I had a total brain-fail and thought I'd  
already posted this, buuuut...I obviously hadn't *facepalm* Anyways, here it is!**

 **Huge thank you to each and every one of you for reading, reviewing, and pimping this  
story. It means so, SO much to me. I'm doing my best to get back to your reviews and answer  
any questions but work is hectic and life is out of control right now LOL. I'll keep trying!**

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognisable characters; those are all Stephenie Meyer's.  
No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Dandelions**

 **We're Both Changing Side By Side**

 _ **June 25th, 2018...**_

I've always hated silence.

Growing up with Alex and Emmett around, silence often meant someone was about to prank me; jump out and shout _boo_ , toss a bucket of water over my head, shoot me with silly string...the list of possibilities was endless.

As an adult, a silent house reminded me that I didn't yet have the big family I longed for, the children I dreamed of.

Then Jace and Dillan came along, quickly followed by Sadie once she was well enough to leave the hospital, and our house became a hive of activity and noise. It was perfect; it _is_ perfect. Except when the children are at Edward's. Then, I have to fill my time with blogging or photography. I've even found myself working from the sofa in the living room with Octonauts—a favorite with the children—turned up loud.

Staring at the painting of a ship sailing on rough waters hanging on the wall across from me, I can't help but smile as I remember the comments on my most recent blog post.

 _Co-Parenting Between Homes._

A blog post I didn't really know I wanted to write until I was halfway through. Honestly, it's one I never thought I'd have the first-hand experience to write, but after our day out together yesterday, I felt compelled to write down my thoughts and they turned into a halfway decent blog post. The attached pictures didn't hurt. My followers are some of the most supportive, lovely people in the world. The majority are women, so of course they adore a pic of 'Daddyward', as Edward's been dubbed.

With a quick glance at the clock, I pull up the photos on my phone and scroll through while I wait.

.

.

 _Nerves skitter over my skin, my eyes checking both ends of the road for familiar cars. Well, one particular car._

 _Hampden Park is a sprawling several acres of fields and forests spread out around a large lake. It has football and rugby pitches, a café, and a playground for children_ — _which explains the fidgeting my children are doing in their car seats._

 _Kicking the back of my seat, Jace worries his lip as I turn to face him. "What's up, Jay?"_

" _Is Daddy coming?"_

 _My stomach rolls with the anxiety that's been steadily intensifying since I woke up this morning. "Of course, he is. He's just running a little late."_

 _Half an hour late._

 _Another five minutes pass before I decide enough is enough. "Come on, you three. We can get out and play while we wait_ —"

" _There he is!" Dillan crows, bouncing as much as his car seat straps allow._

 _I breathe a long sigh of relief and quickly climb out, releasing the children from their seats and reminding them to line up along the fence so they're away from the edge of the road._

 _Edward parks up right in front of us; he disembarks with a sheepish smile and apologetic eyes. "I'm so sorry I'm late, I_ —"

" _It's okay," I cut in. "You're here now." This trip...it's supposed to be fun. I don't want to get mad or feel irritated that he thought it would be okay to show up half an hour late when he promised the children this morning that he'd be here on time, ready to play._

 _Sometimes, it really is easier to pick my battles wisely._

 _._

" _Look at me, Mama! I'm so high!"_

 _Beaming, because how could I not when my babies are so happy their cheeks are rosy and their smiles haven't wavered once, I snap a few quick photos of Edward pushing Dillan on the swing before wandering over to join them. Sadie's happily kicking to swing herself in one of the toddler swings, and Jace is a few feet away on one of the sand diggers. I take a couple of photos of them, too, before stowing my phone in my back pocket._

 _My eyes move to Edward. He looks...carefree, in a way I haven't seen him for so very long. I've noticed a few changes in him today. He's calmer, less jumpy. His eyes hold no evidence of drinking last night_ — _which makes me tremendously happy considering he had the children overnight. Instead of his usual weekend attire of ratty old clothes, he's dressed in a t-shirt the children got him for Christmas and a pair of cargo shorts._

 _He_ almost _looks like the Edward of our youth. The Edward I knew in high school rarely wore anything but shorts and tees._

 _After the accident, after he quit playing football and took the job at the estate agents, his day-to-day uniform became shirts and ties. When his hair finally grew back after the doctors shaved it off to do scans and check wounds, he began keeping it much shorter._

 _Over time, he turned into a man I no longer recognized._

 _There are still traces of the boy I fell in love with hiding within the shell this new Edward has built around himself; I see them from time to time when the children make him smile or he loses himself in memories of sunnier times._

" _Are you having fun?" I ask softly when Dillan gets bored and decides to join Jace in the sandpit._

 _We both take seats on the swings, the playground mercifully quiet for a sunny Sunday afternoon. "I'm having a great time. Thank you, for inviting me."_

 _My cheeks flush as I admit, "It was Jace's idea. He really wanted us all to come out together, so…"_

 _Edward's grin slips slightly, and I realize I sounded flippant and kind of rude, so I rush to explain._

" _I'm glad you came!" His eyebrows lift at my hasty declaration. Blowing up at my hair falling in my eyes, I manage a wry little smile. "Please, don't get me wrong. This is nice._ Really _nice. All five of us being here. And the children…"_

 _Their smiles haven't been wider in weeks._

" _Yeah, they're having fun."_

 _I don't say it, but I'm having fun, too, and I could be wrong but I think Edward is also enjoying himself._

 _._

 _When the children have all 'gotten their wiggles out', as Edward says, we piggy-back the boys while Sadie skips ahead to the café where we treat them all to ice creams. There are a few more people around now; the woman in the queue in front of me looks familiar, but I can't put my finger on_ why _until I get back outside and spot the people she's with._

 _After handing the ice creams to Jace, Dillan, and Sadie, I catch Edward rubbing his chin and eyeing the other family, too._

 _Smiling, I lean over a little to whisper, "It's the Ashbys. You know...the daughter was abducted with her friend? She's the mom."_

 _Edward's eyes light up; he remembers. "That's right. The two girls...they were rescued a couple of years back, right?"_

" _I think so."_

 _Chancing a quick glance at them now, it'd be hard to tell that they've been through so much. The little girl is around the boys' age, and their boy is probably about two now. I remember when he was born. It was all over the news, because it coincided with the sicko who kidnapped them managing to get to the girl again. I can't recall her first name...Indigo, maybe? Indie? It'll come to me later when I've forgotten why I was trying to remember in the first place._

" _Mama, please can I have a napkin?" Jace distracts me, and by the time I've mopped up his face, the other family has gone on their merry way, the children running ahead while their parents walk hand-in-hand just behind them. I smile, pleased for them. They've faced hardships I can't even imagine and just look at them now._

 _It gives me renewed hope for us and the trials ahead._

 _._

 _._

"Mrs. Cullen?"

 _Oh!_

My head snaps up. Tanya smiles hesitantly, her eyes searching the waiting room. There's only one other person here and he's an older, balding man reading a Horse and Hound magazine.

"Will Mr. Cullen be joining us today?"

"I...thought so. I haven't heard otherwise."

"He may be caught in traffic. Come on in and we'll have a cup of tea while we wait for him to arrive." Looking at the receptionist, she raises her eyebrows. As I grab my purse from the chair beside me and follow her into her office, I hear Freda—said receptionist—dialing, presumably, Edward.

With a steaming cup of tea in my hands, I catch Tanya up on the days since our last appointment. She hums and her eyes widen slightly as she makes a note on the pad in her lap while I tell her about the trip to the park yesterday.

"So, you had fun together?"

"We did," I admit easily. "It was nice to just spend time together with the children. They had a great time, too…" Trailing off, I picture their smiles and their contentedness for the rest of the day, minus the odd little blip of awkwardness when we left and instead of all going home together, Edward left in his car and I left in mine with Jace, Dillan, and Sadie.

"That's great, Bella. How did it make you feel, having that dynamic again?"

Chewing my lip, I take a moment to think about it because, to be honest, I've been wondering that same thing all night and all morning. The sad truth is, I think I do know, but my heart...it's just not ready to accept it.

"I think...I think this is going to sound awful but I really don't mean it to."

With her usual encouraging smile, Tanya reminds me this is a safe place and I can share any thoughts with her.

It's a relief to hear it, actually. Our families are so interwoven after so many years together that it's awkward talking to any of them about this. Edward and the children had dinner with Mom and Dad on Saturday, and I've been to lunch with Rosalie—who is technically _his_ sister-in-law—several times in the couple of weeks. We're all close, so it's difficult opening up when I know they're just as attached to Edward as they are to me.

Sucking in a deep breath, I let all my thoughts pour out like a tidal wave; everything I've been feeling over the last couple of days but haven't been able to say erupts.

"For months now I've been coasting along pretending I'm blissfully ignorant of my life falling to pieces, and I kept telling myself I was doing it because I love Edward and I want him to be happy even if I can't be. He and the children, they've been my world. I live and breathe for them. But the drinking...the drinking took Edward away from me, and so slowly, over time, I'm not even sure how it happened, but I think that love for Edward started to change. Every time he prioritized a bottle of alcohol over his family, I didn't realize it but I was…"

Saying the words will make this real. I'm not sure I'm ready for that, but it's eating me up inside. The guilt, the pain, the desolation because I have no idea where I go from here when I say these words...it's tearing me apart.

"I _love_ Edward, and I know I always will. He's a huge part of my life. I just, I don't think I'm _in love_ with him."

The silence between us is thunderous as I exhale a shaky sob. Now I've voiced that into existence, I can't take it back, but I shouldn't anyway. It's the truth, however much it hurts me to admit it. I _do_ love him, of course I do. He's a wonderful man and a brilliant father when he puts down the bottle, but he's changed. We've _both_ changed.

I'm not devoid of blame, but that's just it. Two wrongs don't make a right and our marriage isn't going to be magically all better with a quick fix. Where he was once a funny, kind, considerate boy, he's now a man who's been putting alcohol before his wife and children for months, who's lied and—until recently—refused to accept any wrongdoing in our marriage.

I can still perfectly picture the sweet, shy boy he once was on his first day at Forks High.

.

.

 _Trudging into homeroom, I spot an open seat and head toward it. There's already a kid there, so I ask him if the empty seat is being saved and wince when he thumps his head on the underside of the table._

 _When he pops up and blinks over and over to stop himself crying, I can't help but smile. He's got this crazy mop of gingery brown hair and the prettiest eyes; bright green like the moss that grows on the trees around my house. His clothes are...kind of preppy, actually. A polo shirt and jeans that look brand new, and bright white shoes._

 _We sit together all through the teacher's spiel on being kind and blah, blah, blah, but I doodle on my binder and chit chat to the new kid. Edward Cullen, he says his name is. Like I said—preppy. Who calls their kid 'Edward' in this day and age?_

 _By the time we leave for our first class, I'm pretty sure the girls of Forks are going to eat this boy up. He's sweet and shy and actually_ blushes _when he gets_ _embarrassed._

 _Adorable but dangerous, for sure._

.

.

Falling out of that memory, I feel tears prick my eyes as a _thud_ makes me jump. Turning in my seat, my heart falls to my feet.

Standing in the doorway with clenched fists and what I can only describe as a broken-hearted expression on his face, is Edward.

 _Oh God...how long has he been standing there? Did he hear—_

"Well, that's great. That's just...great," he growls, his voice thick and his eyes glistening even though he looks mad, not sad. I know him better; I know he heard everything and I know he wants to cry right now. It kills me. It's always hurt me to see him cry. It's even worse to know it's _me_ who's made him upset.

"Edward, I…" I choke, moving to stand, to do _something_ to make this better.

He throws up a hand and steps back. "No, Bella. I can't...you…" Blowing out a big breath, he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again, his expression hardened and his gaze now guarded. "I guess _this_ is all a big waste of my time, then. I'll see you around, Bella. I'm done."

Tears splash my lap as I watch him turn and leave, heaving cries filling the room and Tanya's hand gently stroking my back once she's closed the door to the waiting room.

It's only then that I realize the distraught sounds are coming from _me._

 _There you go, Bella—you hate silence?_

 _I'll see you around, Bella. I'm done. I'm done. I'm done._

Edward's harshly spoken words play on a loop in my brain over and over.

 **~ i ~**

Later, after dinner and baths, I put the children to sleep in their beds so I can lay haunted and sleepless in mine.

The darkness is soothing; I can't see the pictures on the dresser or the canvas of my first dance with Edward as his wife. I can't see the slightly wonky curtain pole Edward proudly fixed to the wall before I pointed out that it wasn't straight, or the slight mismatch in the layers of the wallpaper on the wall opposite the bed.

We laughed and made love on the flimsy trestle table, then showered together afterwards to wash off the wallpaper paste.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I will myself not to cry—again. I spent the rest of my one-hour session with Tanya crying my eyes out, mourning the end of my marriage, and then the rest of the morning until I had to pick Sadie up from nursery bawling every time I even thought of Edward and the way we left things.

I should have told him first. I didn't mean to say it to Tanya, I didn't. I just...needed to get it out. It was eating me alive. This last weekend, spending time with him and the children, was wonderful. After the pain and confusion earlier in the week, it was the perfect way to heal the rift a little.

But it also showed me that although I love Edward, I'm not _in love_ with him anymore. It would have been totally unfair of me to not tell him that, but I wish it had happened differently. I wish we'd been able to have that conversation instead of him overhearing it. The truth is, us becoming different people...it's not new.

 _We're both changing, side by side._

It's a lyric from one of my favorite songs—Dustin Tebbutt's "Love Is Blind".

In our case, it's so close to the truth that it makes my breaking heart ache.

When I got home with the boys after the school run, I tried to call Edward. It rang off and went to voicemail. I've sent him two texts, too, but he hasn't responded to either. I'll give him until Wednesday and then pay him a visit at his apartment. I can't bear knowing that I've hurt him. I wish he'd let me apologize. I wish he'd let me explain. As I stare at the darkened ceiling, I wonder if part of his reaction to what I said was down to him feeling the same way as I do, but not being will to accept it.

A quiet creak followed by soft footsteps on the landing pulls me from my thoughts. A few moments later, my bedroom door quietly swings open.

" _Sh, Sadie-bear,"_ Jace whispers.

Smiling into the darkness, I hug the pillow I've been sleeping with at night and pretend to be asleep as they creep closer. Sadie loudly whispers that she _is_ being quiet and Dillan pipes up to shush her again. The mattress dips slightly behind me, two warm little bodies snuggling up at my back while Sadie climbs none-too-gently over me. I feel her pause as she contemplates the pillow before she slides it from between my arms and takes its place, sighing against my chest once she's comfortable with her little fingers holding the ends of my hair.

Tears silently stream over my cheeks as I twist to hug my daughter to me with one arm and reach over to hug my boys with the other.

"Did we wake you, Mamma?" Dillan asks me softly.

Turning to press a kiss against his hair, I whisper, "No, don't worry. Sleep now, baby boy. I love you all."

They chorus their "I love you, Mama"s, and for the moment, my heart is full and whole.

 **~ i ~**

 _ **Wednesday...**_

"Gamma's here!"

Frowning, I wonder _Gamma?_ as I switch off the hob where I'm cooking spaghetti bolognese for tonight and follow Dillan's voice to the hall. I'm just in time to see my mother-in-law, Esme, opening the front door with a smile.

"Hello, sweetheart! How's my big boy?"

"Good," Dillan tells her bashfully, stretching on his tiptoes to kiss the cheek she offers him. "I'll go get Jay and Sadie."

As he takes off up the stairs, calling for his brother and sister, Esme turns her smile on me. It's a little guarded, but still the same soft smile she's always worn. "Bella, love. It's so good to see you."

Unexpectedly, I well up and find a lump in my throat when she hurries over to wrap me up in her arms. I haven't seen her since Edward moved out; I _miss her_ and I didn't realize how much until she appeared in front of me. "It's great to see you, too, Es."

There are tears in her pretty hazel eyes when she pulls back to thumb moisture from my cheeks. "What are you doing tomorrow? Will you join me for lunch?"

I already know my calendar is empty tomorrow, so I agree easily. "I'd love that."

The wide smile on her face is worth the inevitable moments of awkwardness we'll have, but I'm distracted by the children thundering down the stairs before I can ask where or when.

"Gamma!" Jace and Sadie crow, leaping into her arms with Dillan hot on their heels.

"Well, hello, my sweethearts! I've missed you!"

"We've missed you, Gamma," Jace tells her happily. "Why're you here?"

Far from being insulted by his directness, Esme laughs. "If it's all right with your mama, I've come to take you to your daddy's." My brows furrow slightly before I manage to school my expression. "He's, uh...he's a little busy so I said I'd come and get you for him."

The boys had a teacher training day today so we went strawberry picking at a local farm and I expected Edward to collect them around lunchtime. I didn't tell the children because I wasn't certain, and I'm glad I didn't—it's now almost three and as much as they love Esme, they would have been disappointed if they were expecting Edward and he was a no-show.

Esme looks at me, apology and a myriad of other emotions in her gaze. "Is that okay?"

Plastering a smile I don't feel onto my face, I nod. "Of course! Of course, it's okay."

 _He's avoiding me. Of course._

I don't know why I didn't expect it, to be honest. I just hope it doesn't last.

 **~ i ~**

Over the course of the following few months, things between Edward and I go from frosty to downright freezing.

It takes a month and a half before he shows up to pick up the children himself. Before that, he sends Esme, Carlisle, Emmett or Rose...anyone other than himself, basically.

The children get used to being passed between me and one of their family members until one day in September, the week of my birthday, everyone else is busy and Edward is forced to pick them up from me himself. All three of them have been off school and nursery all week with chicken pox, but they're finally better and more than well enough to spend a couple of nights with their daddy.

As I brush Sadie's curls in front of the TV, I hear the boys' thumping footsteps crashing down the stairs. "Boys! You're not elephants, remember!"

Appearing in the doorway, they murmur their apologies. "Sorry, Mum."

Oh, and that's another development. I'm 'Mum' to Jace and Dillan now. They're 'too old' to call me a babyish name like 'Mama', so I was told a few weeks ago—they've also dropped 'Daddy' for Edward and replaced it with 'Dad'.

Angela tells me that one of the boys in their class called Jace silly for still calling me 'Mama', and even with my reassurance that he can call me whatever he chooses—as long as it's appropriate, obviously—he's decided to go with 'Mum'. So, even though I'm sad my boys both drop the name, I'm secretly glad Sadie still wants to call me 'Mama'.

"Who's getting us today?" Dillan wonders, flopping on the sofa beside his brother.

"I'm not sure, Dill. Probably Gamma or Pops."

"'Kay."

The boys talk about the soccer—ahem, _football_ —club they've joined while I twist Sadie's hair into two neat pigtails. Edward isn't great with hair so it's best I save them both the trauma of him having to brush out her curls.

I've just tied the second pink band at the end of her plait when I hear the knock at the front door.

"I'll get it!" all three children yell, leaping up to race to the door.

Esme, Carlisle, Emmett, or Rosalie will let themselves in, so I tuck Sadie's hair thingies back into their box on the shelf and tidy the cushions on the sofa, listening to the children chatter away in the hallway.

"Uh, hi, Bella."

 _Holy—_ "Edward!"

It's been weeks since I saw him last. Months, actually.

The last time we saw each other he was running away from me, both our hearts breaking.

In his typical weekday uniform of a suit and tie, he's clearly come right from work. It's a suit I don't recognize; one he's bought in the time since he left. His hair is also shorter and he's growing a short, neatly trimmed beard. As he narrows his eyes at me slightly, I wonder if he notices the differences in me, too.

I had my hair cut last week, so instead of the ends hitting the top of my butt, they now sit just below my shoulders. I've also quit my obsession with baggy sweaters and sweatpants; it's time to stop mourning my life and start living it again. Edward's out there living his. People keep telling me they've seen him out and about—at a bar with coworkers or friends, at the park with the children, and even I saw the pictures of him at a mutual friend of ours' stag do. They were all over Facebook, his grin wide and carefree while I punished myself by staying in and wallowing.

And now we're here.

"I, uh, sent the kids up to grab their bags."

"Okay."

It's clear neither of us know what to say. This is...awkward.

Softly clearing my throat, I ask, "So, how've you been?"

"Not bad, not bad. Can't complain. You?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

 _Aaaaand cue the return of the awkward silence._

If tumbleweeds were a thing here in Britain, my living room would be flooded with them.

Thankfully, the boys skidding back into the room dissipates the silence. "Do I need my football, Dad?"

The ever-so-slight wince on Edward's face almost makes me smile. So he's struggling with the boys' new names for us, too. I'm glad I'm not the only one.

"Yeah, buddy, bring it with you and we can have a kick-about tomorrow." As Dillan and Jace race back out of the room, he calls, "Don't forget your shin guards!"

It's Sadie's turn to prance into the living room next. I watch with a bemused smile as she offers him two boxes—one full of Lego, the other full of dolls.

"Daddy, what'cha wanna play? Dolls or Legos."

He smirks and drops into a crouch, looking between the two plastic tubs in her small hands. "I think...Lego."

She'd have been happy with either choice, but Sadie's winning smile says she was hoping for that answer. "'Kay! Here, you can hold it for me." Turning to me, she points at the overstuffed toybox in the corner and asks, "Can I leave this here?"

"Sure, baby."

Edward's eyes flick toward the clock, so I remind her to fetch her coat, the fall— _sorry_ , autumn—winds whipping the leaves from the trees outside. I fidget and twist the hair tie around my wrist while we wait for the children to be ready to go. Fridays used to be my favorite day of the week, but now they're the worst. When Edward drives away shortly with our babies in the backseat, I have almost forty-eight hours to fill.

"We're ready!" they finally chime, my heart thudding in my chest as I follow them, and Edward, to the front door. Crouching, I pull each of my children in for hugs and kisses.

"I love you," I whisper, my throat threatening to close up. This never seems to get any easier; I always miss them like they're going to be gone for weeks rather than days.

"Love _youuu_ , Mama," my sweet, goofy Sadie sings, planting a loud, wet smooch right on my cheek. "Be good, 'kay?"

Snorting a laugh, I tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She's stealing my words, now. "I will, sweetheart. You be good for Daddy, okay?" Looking between the boys, I add, " _All_ of you be good."

They promise they will, so I stand up and try to pretend like my heart isn't packing up to go with them.

"Last to the car is a rotten egg loser!" Dillan cries. He, Jace, and Sadie take off out of the front door; out of the corner of my eye, I see Jace declaring himself the winner as Edward clears his throat to get my attention.

"I, uh, just wanted to remind you about Em and Rose's vow renewal next weekend..."

"I remember," I promise. As if I could forget? It's all Rosalie has been talking about recently, but I assume he's not thinking about the fact that she's been one of his couriers taking the children from my house to his.

"Good, that's good." Looking anywhere but at me, he finally sighs and reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "I missed it, but happy birthday, Bella."

 _Oh…_

My birthday was yesterday and it was the first year since we started dating—the first year in fourteen—that I haven't spent it with him. Mom and Dad took me and the children out to dinner in Brighton after we spent a glorious afternoon on the seafront and riding the kid-friendly attractions on the pier. It was chaos, being such a warm fall day, but it was exactly what I needed. The perfect distraction.

The flat black velvet box is soft but weighty in my hands as I turn it around so the clasp is facing me.

"I, ah…" Reaching up to tug at his hair, he grimaces. "I didn't get a chance to wrap it. Sorry."

"That's okay," I promise, managing a smile even though, honestly, I feel like bursting into tears as soon as I open the lid.

Nestled on a soft cushion inside the box is a beautiful bangle. Four stones are attached by delicate clasps—a sapphire, two emeralds, and a beautiful amethyst, all set in white gold hearts to match the bangle.

"Edward…" I breathe, choked up and more than a little overwhelmed. "This is beautiful!"

Over the years, Edward has given me many gifts. He's never looked as bashful as he does right now, the tips of his ears flushed crimson.

 _There's_ the shy boy I fell in love with. He's still in there.

"I'm glad you like it. The kids helped pick it out. The sapphire is your birthstone, the emeralds are the boys', and Sadie's is the purple one. Amethyst, maybe?"

I'm nodding and desperately trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall. It's stunning; truly a thoughtful gift.

"Thank you," I finally sigh, forcing myself to meet his gaze. I know, from the way his eyes slightly narrow, that he can see all my emotions playing out across my face. He's always been good at reading me. Better than me, even.

Gruffly, he murmurs, "You're welcome. I'd best get going, anyway…"

"Right." Peering over at the children, I drink in the sight of them for one last time until Sunday. "Have fun with them." As he hesitates briefly before turning to walk down the drive, I wonder… "I'll see you Sunday?"

Shooting me a tiny smile over his shoulder, Edward nods. "You will."

So the avoidance tactics have finally come to an end, then. I'm not sure what's brought this on and given him the push to stop roping family members into collecting and dropping the children off, but whatever it is, I'm glad. It's been torture trying to get past the walls he threw up after that catastrophe at Tanya's office. If time was all he needed to gain a little perspective and to wrap his head around things, well... I'm okay with that. We still need to talk and have a proper conversation about what's going to happen going forward, but this is an okay take-off point. I'm not thrilled that instead of talking to me like a grown-up, he ran away, but I can't imagine it was easy for him hearing what he did. It wasn't easy to _say_ it, and God knows I might have reacted similarly if I were in his position.

But I believe him when he says I'll see him Sunday, so I smile back and lean in the doorway to watch him load Jace, Dillan, and Sadie into the car, laughing at their crazy waves when they finally pull away.

* * *

 **All right, so two things. Number one: we've hit the halfway point in the story with this chapter. 10 will pick up after a bit of a time jump and I'm aiming to have that up soon for you :) We're not at the top of the bumpy mountain trek just yet, but aaalmost, then it'll all be downhill toward the HEA from there. I know a lot of you are getting worried they won't make it but I assure you they will.**

 **Aaaaand number two: if you're interested, my debut novel-also my first complete Twific- _Pinky Promises_ is available for pre-order on Kindle as of today. The paperback is coming soon, hopefully *everything crossed* You can find it in the Kindle store, on Amazon's website, or the details are on my Facebook page where I'm under the same name as I am here, just with a space (Ciara Shayee). I'm also sharing exclusive teasers over on Facebook and I plan to run a cheeky competition or two before Christmas, so it's worth checking out ;)**

 **Happy Thursday, folks! xo**


	10. One Last Time To Hold You

**Happy New Year, everyone! I'm sorry for the wait between chapters. I planned for this chapter to belong  
to Edward, but he was being shy and refused to talk to me, so that'll be next chapter, hopefully. I hope you  
all had a lovely holiday season if you celebrate, and if not, I hope you've had a good couple of weeks since  
we last saw this gang.**

 **Thank you all for your continued support with reviews, kind comments, encouragement, and recc'ing. You're  
all wonderful and now everything has quietened down a bit, I'll try and get to all of your reviews.**

 **Uh, this one is a bit of a toughie and sort of came out of left field, but bear with me. Time jump after this  
chapter and then we're on the downward slope toward their HEA. Have faith and buckle in, friends! xoxo**

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognisable characters; those are all Stephenie Meyer's.**

 **No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Dandelions**

 **One Last Time To Hold You**

 _ **September 22nd**_ _ **, 2018…**_

Always looking immaculate, presentable, and harboring a major crush on all things designer, Rosalie planned a lavish, glamorous affair for her wedding to Emmett three years ago. They had a lengthy engagement made longer by their spur-of-the-moment decision to move over to England, culminating in likely the biggest, fanciest wedding Eastbourne has ever seen.

By then, Esme and Carlisle had followed us out here, so there wasn't much holding them back. Rosalie's parents are both long-gone and she's an only child. Before landing in Forks, the Cullens moved around a lot, so to them, it wasn't such a big deal to skip across the Atlantic.

It sounds crazy when I think about it—the fact that two entire families moved continents—but we've always been a close family unit. I couldn't have lived without my parents, and my brother has always wanted to live in England after visiting with friends as a teen. Honestly, I hadn't put much thought into it until my parents had already settled here. I could do my job anywhere, so that wasn't a factor, and Edward was never dead-set on trying to play for the NFL. He sort of fell into football after discovering his talent in high school, but he enjoyed it enough that he made sure to figure out his options before we moved.

Not that it mattered much in the end. The accident took football away from him anyway.

When Emmett and Rosalie decided to cross the ocean, too, they put off their wedding and took the leap of faith, packing up their life and bringing themselves over to the south-east of England.

Their wedding followed shortly after; the fairytale winter theme was perfect for them. They were even lucky enough to have snow flurries in the afternoon, their December date just days before Christmas. Rosalie wore a stunning diamante-encrusted princess gown and Emmett rocked a dapper black morning suit complete with tails and a cravat. They looked every bit the regal winter prince and princess.

With all that in mind, their simple vow renewal this mild September Saturday is a welcome surprise.

The trees around the park are dropping their russet, red, and gold leaves; the cool breeze lifts them from the ground and carries them across the lawn to create a multi-colored carpet around the makeshift altar. Soft, romantic music serenades the intimate crowd waiting patiently. They had a harpist at their wedding and I know, thanks to my chats with Rosalie in recent weeks, that the music playing through the portable speakers is a playlist of that same harpist.

A soft sigh from my side pulls my attention away from the registrar at the altar.

"This is so beautiful," Esme breathes, her smile wide and wistful.

"It really is," I agree easily, a mixture of emotions swirling through me.

In the lead-up to today I didn't think too hard about what it might feel like to be here. As we wait for Emmett and Rosalie to finish taking pictures on the other side of the park, I wonder if this is as weird for Edward as it is for me. Unbidden, my eyes seek him out, an instinctive half-smile curling my lips when I spot him.

Far from a formal event, Emmett and Rosalie opted not to have a bridal party or groomsmen. They also decided against suits and extravagant dresses. In the playground a few dozen feet away, Edward is keeping all of the children occupied. In a charcoal knit jumper and chino pants, he looks smart but still casual, if that makes sense. He's also wearing a big grin as he pushes Lily and Sadie on the swings; I know I'm not the only one watching him.

Changing a glance at the other guests, I spy several women with their eyes on Edward and the children. It feels wrong to accept that jealousy is one of the predominant emotions in my bloodstream. He's not mine to covet, not anymore, but I can't help it. He's _been_ mine for nearly half my life. It's weird to think of other women looking at him as a single man, but I know I'm going to have to get used to it.

The music eventually changes and Edward corrals the children—Jace, Dillan, Sadie, Lily, AJ, Aaron, and the two daughters of one of Rosalie's neighbors—before bringing them all back over to take their seats. He breathes a soft sigh as he takes the empty seat beside me in the front row of picnic chairs. I stifle the urge to turn and look at him, instead twisting the other way to watch a beaming Emmett and Rosalie make their way up the short aisle.

She's radiant in a simple blush dress and short white cardigan, and he looks handsome in a shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dress pants. Casual but effective. We all stand until they reach the registrar, who smiles as he tells us all to sit.

"We're gathered here today to celebrate the continued union of Emmett and Rosalie Cullen."

From Carlisle's arms, now-eight-month-old Henry gives a screech. Titters of laughter spread through the group, and Rosalie turns to blow her son a kiss.

The ceremony is beautiful. The words that are spoken, the way Emmett and Rosalie look at each other throughout, the smiles on their faces when Lily and Henry join them for a family picture before they make their way as a foursome back down the aisle.

Tears topple over my cheeks, my heart full to bursting.

When I stood in front of my friends and family eleven years ago, Edward at my side and a smile not unlike Rosalie's plastered across my face, I never thought I'd be here now, separated and co-parenting our three children.

 _There are a lot of things about my life that I never expected._

"Here," Edward murmurs, passing me a handkerchief from his pocket.

Blinking back a fresh onslaught of tears, I croak my _thank you_ and dry my face.

"Are you...are you okay?"

Peering up into his eyes, I see sincerity and genuine worry. I see the familiar boy I married and the unfamiliar man he's turned into.

"I'm fine."

Sadie slams into my legs before he can ask the question hovering on the tip of his tongue. "Mama, can we go? Jay say there gonna be cake at the recep...uh…"

"Reception, baby. Yes, there's going to be cake. Come on, you." Scooping her into my arms, I ask Edward if it's okay for him to take the boys to the hotel across town where the reception is being held. Jace and Dillan asked to go with him earlier this morning, so I promised I'd ask.

"Of course," he smiles, grabbing the boys—one under each arm as they cackle and writhe. "We'll meet you there."

 **~ i ~**

In the warmth of the hotel, I find a seat at the same table as my brother and sister-in-law and our parents. Sadie took off to join her cousins as soon as we arrived; a couple of minutes after I sit down with Mom, Dad, Alex, and Vanessa, I spot Edward, Jace and Dillan. The boys visit me just to offload their fleeces before running over to the buffet table where the other children are ransacking the candy jars.

"Jace, baby?" I call before he can get too far. "Tell your brother and sister to have no more than one cup of candy, please. You, too."

He grumbles his agreement and trudges after Dillan—no doubt to complain about what a killjoy their mama is. I smile to myself and sip my lemonade and lime; I won't be drinking anything stronger until the sitter has taken the children home later this evening, but I do plan on letting my hair down a bit. I rarely get the chance, like most parents.

"So, sis…" Alex trails off, fiddling with the label of his beer. "What's new with you?"

Maybe it's his tone, or maybe it's the way everyone else suddenly averts their eyes, but I get the distinct feeling there's more to his seemingly innocent enquiry than I'm realizing.

"Uh, not much. I ordered a bunch of new screens for the studio this week…"

It's clear from the uncomfortable coughs around the table that nobody is interested. I've missed the mark.

"That's, uh, that's good." Alex clears his throat. "And, ah...have you been up to much? You know...outside of work? Socialising, friends…"

The unsaid _dating_ is loud even though it doesn't fall from his lips. As I flick my narrowed eyes around at Mom, Dad, Alex, and Vanessa, I wonder when they decided that four months is an appropriate amount of time to mourn an eleven-year marriage. I mean, for some people I'm sure it is. I don't think there's a set amount of time that anyone 'should' or 'shouldn't' expect to spend getting over the collapse of a relationship, but still…

My family _know_ me. Or, I thought they did. The fact that they seem to think I'd move on so soon tells me otherwise.

"I don't think I like where you're going with this, Alex…" I murmur, trying to control the snippy bite to my tone. " _Edward_ and I are still trying to figure out the best way to co-parent our children and keep up with everything else. Careers, friends, family…"

Chastened, Alex nods and takes a long pull from his beer bottle. "Of course, sis, I didn't mean anything by it. I just…" Blowing out a long breath, he shakes his head. "I just want to see you happy."

Sadie yelling 'Mama' from somewhere behind me has me turning away, but not before I hear Alex mumble 'both of you'.

 **~ i ~**

Swaying on the dance floor with Dillan's head resting on my shoulder, I can't help but smile into his hair and breathe in the emotions all around us. It's joy, contentment, relaxation. Pride for the wonderful couple who've brought us all here today.

Rosalie and Emmett mingling with enormous smiles on their faces and Lily giggling from her daddy's shoulders.

Esme, Mom, and Vanessa supervising the few children left—Henry, AJ, Aaron, Jace, and Sadie.

Carlisle and Dad are over by the bar chit-chatting, and I spot Alex making his way over as Dillan sleepily asks me to 'do the twirl thing' again.

Grinning, I squeeze my boy a little tighter and do a quick twist just to hear his happy giggles in my ear. The band on the small stage serenades us as we move around the big parquet square, narrowly avoiding some of the more buzzed dancers.

There are few things I enjoy more than holding my babies. Dillan came to me a little while ago asking for snuggles and I'll never say 'no' to that unless I absolutely have to. This...dancing with him in my arms, is the best part of my day so far. It's been beautiful and lovely spending time with family and friends, but with much less time spent with my babies now I share their time with Edward, it feels extra special getting to be with them today.

"Mama?"

"Yeah, baby?"

Dillan pulls back a little, smiling lopsidedly. "I love you."

Welling up, I lean in and rest our foreheads together. My smile couldn't be any wider. "I love _you_ , sweetheart."

"Uh, Bella, Carmen's here."

Turning to peer over my shoulder, I see Edward just behind us and then spot Carmen over with the children. She's a friend of Mom's and a baby whisperer with our children, particularly Jace. He adores her. Dillan sees her at the same time as I do and scrambles down to run over, leaving me with Edward on the edge of the dance floor.

It's...a little awkward, actually. We both realize it.

His sheepish smile makes me snort a laugh.

 _How did we get here?_

"Would you, er...do you want to dance?"

Surprise takes over my features and Edward laughs at me as his eyes harden with resolve and he gently but firmly takes my hand to lead me deeper into the throng of dancers.

We've done this a hundred or more times before. At weddings, parties, the annual gala thrown by the hospital where Alex works...his arm curling around my middle and my hand sliding to rest on his shoulder is as easy as breathing.

Just as we begin to step in a comfortable, simple sequence, the current song changes; it segues into something low and lilting and romantic. It makes us both sigh.

"Have you had a good day?" I ask softly, afraid of the silence between us. It never spells good things when we don't talk.

Flicking my eyes up, I watch his lips curl into a smile. His gaze wanders behind me and I'm fairly sure they're on his brother and sister-in-law. "It's been great," he murmurs. "Those two are meant for each other, you know?"

I nod because I do, and I chew the inside of my cheek and blink my stinging eyes hard because I once thought we were made for each other, too.

"Hey…" he whispers, giving our joined hands a squeeze. I pull my eyes from our feet and in a moment of total vulnerability, I let him see everything. Everything I've been feeling and bottling up as I focused on our babies and tried to figure out who I am without him. The widening of his eyes and the clenching of his jaw is proof he sees it, he sees it all.

We're at a junction here. A fork in the road. We can pretend it's all all right or be real, be honest with each other.

"Bella, I…I'm sorry. For avoiding you. I was already feeling guilty as all hell for what happened with Irina at the bar, and then what you said at Tanya's office that day...it killed me because I already knew it." Blowing out a big breath, he adds, "I think I knew it before you did, that's why I was pulling away. I know I've screwed this up—"

"No, Edward," I interrupt, because the blame...it's not all on him. "I messed up, too. This wasn't all your fault, but it wasn't all mine, either."

"That's fair," Edward concedes. "Like I said, though, I shouldn't have avoided you. I...honestly, I missed you. A lot. I found myself almost calling you _so many times_."

Tears gather in my eyes and a rock lands square in the pit of my stomach.

"I've missed you, too."

My admission seems to surprise him, but he relaxes slightly.

"I should have stayed that day and given you the chance to explain. Storming off didn't help anybody."

"I think I'd have done the same," I tell him softly. He cocks his head. "It was hard to _say_ , so I have some idea of how it must have felt to _hear_ out of the blue like that."

We sway together, pausing our circuit to kiss the children and thank Carmen for taking them home. I'll pick them up from her house tomorrow, where she's also taking care of Lily and Henry.

When they've gone, we head to the bar and each get our first alcoholic drinks of the day before Edward silently takes my hand again and we continue our dance as if we never stopped. It's nice. Comforting.

 _As if this past six months never happened._

Except it did, and there are reminders everywhere. In the stories we tell about our separate time with Jace, Dillan, and Sadie, in the unfamiliar suit he's wearing, in our agreement to coordinate schedules for the Christmas nativity the children have started rehearsing.

It happened and it's the big elephant in the room. We skirt around its haunches but we're both well aware of its presence. It's impossible not to be, but with the warmth of his hand in mine, our bodies close together and his lips curling into a content smile as he narrows his eyes before murmuring "spin" and quickly twirling me under his arm...it feels like home. Like everything is okay.

 **~ i ~**

"So I told him 'you can't just draw on the walls, buddy' and he shrugged and offered to paint over it for me."

I snort into my third...or is it fourth?...glass of wine. "So he still got to do his wall art, then."

Edward nods wryly, swirling the dregs of his whiskey in the bottom of his tumbler. We've migrated to one of the tables now, the younger generation taking over the dance floor now the band has swapped with the house DJ. I'm not even forty yet but I feel a hundred years old compared with the twenty-somethings letting their hair down.

Mom and Dad have gone home, and Alex and Vanessa had to get their boys to bed so they left shortly after. I don't know many of the people left, although there are considerably more people here at the reception than there were at the ceremony. 'Over a hundred' Rosalie told us as she hung off Emmett's arm a little while ago.

With a relaxed sigh, I sip my rosé and cross my legs, rubbing an itch on my calf with the socked toes of my other foot. The boots I've worn all day are gorgeous, but they're also new and not all that comfortable just yet. I ditched them under the table as soon as we sat down.

As my gaze sweeps around the room, I realize I'm not the only one observing.

I can _feel_ Edward's eyes on me. They're like branding irons travelling up my legs. The cream knit dress I'm wearing is new; it hugs my figure and flatters the curves I've developed since hitting thirty before falling to my knees. My crossed legs mean the hem has ridden up a little.

I take a gulp of my wine in an attempt to cool myself, a hot flush spreading across my skin, and remember _he's always been a leg man_.

The look in his slightly glazed eyes when I meet them...I haven't seen it for such a long time. It's want and desire. Longing and fire. It ignites me.

The one-too-many wines I've consumed make me brave; maybe the whiskeys he's been drinking give him liquid courage, too. When he reaches over with his free hand to lightly caress my knee, I don't pull away. I raise an eyebrow ever so slightly in challenge. I have no idea how far he'll take this, no idea how far I'll let him, but just once, I want to pretend this perfect day is ours. I want to pretend we haven't fallen apart at the seams and that we're still the couple we were when Rosalie and Emmett were married the first time.

 **~ i ~**

" _Oh, God…_ "

My eyes pop open, then immediately snap shut. _Shit. The light...too bright._

That groan, that deep voice at my back...I'd know it anywhere.

Slowly, it all starts coming back to me.

" _Another wine?"_

" _Sure, why not? I'll get the next round."_

 _A crooked grin… "So there'll be another round, then. Good to know."_

My stomach rolls.

 _Warmth and safety, a hand on my waist and lips at my ear. A heavy beat and a drugging stare._

" _Did we…_ " I mouth, touching my lips.

 _Intense forest green and a flash of pink as he licks his lips. Swaying and soft singing. Sweet rosé and whiskey mixed with something inherently_ him _. Familiar. Comforting._

 _Missed. I miss this, I miss_ him _._

 _He's close but not close enough, then he's there—lips against mine, hands pressing me closer, hungry kisses stealing my breath._

A blurry memory of an amused receptionist makes me wince as I scrunch my eyes tight and turn my face into the pillow.

 _A warm hand tugging me toward the elevators._

 _Stumbling feet and fumbling fingers. Too many buttons. A ping, a room key, a bed…_

Holding my breath, I carefully push myself up to lean on one elbow and peer around the room. What I see makes me wince, my dull headache worsening.

 _His sweater goes first, followed by his shirt. My dress...his fingertips tickle my thighs as he tugs the hem upward, his breath hot on my belly, my neck, and my dress is gone; it lands across the room with our hastily discarded shoes._

I spot my bra hanging from a lampshade and mumble a curse under my breath before slowly rising and hot-footing it into the en-suite bathroom. The door closes with a quiet click; the cool wood feels great against my too-warm back as I lean against it, closing my eyes and wondering how the hell this happened.

 _Too many glasses of wine and a bunch of poor decisions, that's how it happened,_ my oddly snarky subconscious tells me.

Stepping over to the mirror, I lean against the counter and stare at my reflection. My hair is a total bird's nest. Thankfully, the minimal amount of make-up I applied yesterday means that I don't look a _complete_ state this morning; my mascara is a little smudged, but that's the worst of it. It only takes a minute or two to scrub my face, then I decide a shower is most definitely in order. And thank God for fluffy hotel towels. By the time I've had a thorough wash and towel dried my hair enough to stick it in a messy bun on top of my head, I feel much better—well, as good as I'm going to feel after this colossal fuck-up, anyway.

It didn't occur to me to grab my clothes before showering, so I suck in a deep breath and exhale deeply as I step back into the room wrapped in the biggest towel on offer.

I expect to be mortified when I make eye-contact with Edward.

I expect to see him either still sleeping on the plush king-size bed, or sitting there waiting for the no-doubt awkward conversation ahead of us.

Instead, the bed is empty, his clothes noticeably absent and mine folded haphazardly on the ottoman.

Tears sting my eyes as I cross the room to snatch up my dress; it's then that I spot the paper sitting on top of my clothes.

 _Bella, I'm sorry. I think we both know this shouldn't have happened, but I had an amazing night with you. I waited as long as I could but I have a meeting I can't miss. I'll call you. E._

 **~ oOo ~**

Over the course of the day, as my hangover wears off and the children drive me to the brink of insanity with their overtired whining and fighting, more of the night comes back to me.

As I cut sandwiches into shapes—stars for Sadie, squares for Dillan, and triangles for Jace—I remember Edward's fingers as he slid my underwear down my legs and kissed the tattoo I have on my hip.

 _02-10-15_ bookended by a pair of blue elephants on one side and a smaller, pink elephant on the other. February tenth, two-thousand-fifteen—the day we received the phone call to say we'd been matched with a sibling group, two little boys and their as-yet unborn sibling.

While I pop two paracetamol and set the children up with a board game in the living room, I feel the phantom trail of kisses Edward left up my neck, over my jaw, and to my lips.

By the time I tuck Jace, Dillan, and Sadie into their beds, I've remembered it all. Every touch, every kiss, every thump of the headboard and every whispered word.

 _I miss you._

 _Too good_ — _it's too good._

 _There, more…_

 _Kiss me._

 _Edward...Bella…_

Tears blur the TV screen I'm not even watching as I trace an invisible line from my lips to my hairline with my fingertips.

 _His lips burn my skin as he kisses my forehead. "Will you stay with me tonight?"_

 _I choke on a breath as his fingers roam._

" _Pretend it's all all right...please. Give me one last time to hold you." His words are slowed down by alcohol; mine, too._

" _Yes. Yes, I'll stay. God, Edward…"_

My stomach twists as I picture his face, his glassy eyes hovering over me.

" _Give me the chance to tell you all the things...all the things I should've said before but I was too fucking stupid to say."_

I did. I stayed. I listened to everything, all the things he wanted to say, all the things he wanted to whisper in my ear as his body made promises he couldn't keep.

But his words...they don't help. I don't feel better.

I feel broken. Used and tossed aside. Empty—like every word he uttered last night.

 _Blissful and sated, I feel unconsciousness tugging me into its cottony folds. Edward's arms wrap around me, his chest to my back. Humming, I snuggle back into his comforting warmth._

 _As I'm drifting, floating off into a safe, perfect world where nothing can hurt me, I think I hear him speaking,_ pleading _, but it's probably my silly imagination._

" _Tell me you love me, the way you used to. Please."_

A sob tears its way up and out of my throat. " _Oh, God._ "

 _What have we done?_

Across the room, my phone pings. _Edward_. Nerves twist me up in knots but I rise shakily from the couch and walk on wobbly legs until my cell is in my hand.

 _Mom -_ _ **I love you, sweetheart xoxo**_

Tears pour unabated over my cheeks. I tap out a reply telling my mom that I love her, too, before I give up on staying up and start my usual before-bed routine, locking every door and checking all the windows. Upstairs, in bed, I pull one of the spare pillows over and hug it to my chest, staring at the black screen of my cell on the mattress beside me.

It doesn't light up. It doesn't ping.

Edward doesn't call.

* * *

 **Eek, so that happened! Anybody still with me?**


	11. Enjoy Any Time Of Truce

**I'm so sorry for the ridiculous delay between chapters. I've been ill and insanely, unexpectedly busy, and to make matters worse,  
Dandelionward just wouldn't speak to me. This was supposed to be his chance to speak up. He _did_ finally come around though, so  
we'll see into his head a little bit toward the end. Anyway, enjoy! I'm aiming to get back to my usual once or twice weekly updating  
schedule now :)**

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognisable characters; those are all Stephenie Meyer's.**

 **No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **Dandelions**

 **Enjoy Any Time Of Truce**

 _ **September 26th**_ _ **, 2018…**_

"Mama!"

Rolling my eyes, I suck in a deep breath and head out into the hall so I don't have to yell back. "Yes, Dillan?"

He peers back at me from the top of the stairs, still dressed in the Spiderman costume I asked him to take off at least an hour ago. "Jace can't find his bag."

 _Mother of_ — "I'll be up in a minute. Now can you _please_ get changed. We've got to be out the door in ten minutes or I'll be late dropping you with your dad."

"'Kay." He disappears, _hopefully_ to get changed, which gives me a moment to straighten myself out and take another calming breath. It's been one of those days. So far nothing has gone right; I burnt the kids' toast this morning so they had Pop Tarts for breakfast in the car on the way to school and nursery, in the wake of the burnt toast fiasco I forgot to pack my extra camera batteries so I had to comp my first client a free follow-up session when my camera died halfway through the session, and Jace lashed out at his teaching assistant so he's made us all absolutely miserable since being home, because if he can't have his iPad, why should anyone else be happy?

Like I said—one of those days.

By the time I make it up the stairs, the damn Spiderman costume is on the landing and Dillan is tugging a hoodie over his head. He's still sans pants, but hey, I'll class it as a win. It's taken forty-odd minutes to get this far.

"I've got my bag all packed, Mom," Dillan tells me cheerfully once he's straightened out his hoodie.

"Great, thank you, sweetie." Planting a kiss on his head, I direct him toward his room. "Put some pants on, grab your bag, and I'll meet you downstairs just as soon as I've got your brother and sister sorted."

"Cool."

 _Cool._ It's Dillan's favorite word at the moment. It's possible that it's slightly driving me toward insanity today.

"Where are you, Jace?"

" _In Sadie's room!"_

"Of course," I mumble. "Because where else would your bag be but in your sister's room?"

It's possible my terrible mood is also down to my nerves over seeing Edward today. After he ignored my calls on Sunday and, apparently, couldn't find the time to call me back, I finally got through to him on Monday. We spoke through his lunch break until my first client of the afternoon arrived at the studio. I feel like we made some headway in moving forward as co-parents, but I have no idea how I'll feel when I see him face-to-face in a couple of hours. I don't have to try very hard to remember the brush of his stubble over my skin or the wicked look in his eyes as he pushed me into the hotel mattress—none of which are appropriate thoughts to be having when I walk into my daughter's room and find her hanging off her bed upside-down, what seems like the entire contents of her dresser and wardrobe strewn across the floor.

"Sadie...what on Earth have you been doing in here?"

Beaming toothily, she admits, "Making a mess, Mama. I was lookin' for my purple dress and I can't find it."

"I can see you've been making a mess, baby." With a sigh and a long look at the ceiling to stifle the scream lodged in my throat, I count to five in my head before facing Sadie again. "It's too late to tidy this all up before we go to the hairdresser, so can you please just grab your bag for Daddy's and get your little butt downstairs?"

"All right, Mama." Sadie thankfully does as she told. She hops down from her bed, scoops her mini rucksack from the floor, and dances out of the room calling for Dillan.

Peering around, I spot Jace buried in his sister's extensive teddy pile. His little head pokes out from between Tigger and Doc McStuffins. "Jace, sweetheart, it's time to go."

"Don't want to."

 _Great._

"Come on, baby. The sooner we go, the sooner you can get to your dad's. He's got a sur...er, a present for you all, remember?" I catch myself before I can say 'surprise', knowing that's definitely not the way to persuade Jace. Dillan and Sadie, sure. But my eldest...definitely not a fan of surprises whether they're good ones or bad.

He lifts up a little, his narrowed eyes hurting my heart. I know it upsets him to have his iPad time taken away, but no child of mine is going to get away with spitting. He knows full-well that it's wrong and what the consequences will be, too, so if I don't follow through it hurts every bit of trust and every ounce of respect we've built up between us. "What's the present? Do you know?"

"No, baby," I tell him as I cross the room and sit on Sadie's pink beanbag, reaching out to smooth his hair away from his eyes. It's definitely time for a haircut. "Your dad hasn't told me what it is. He wants you three to be the first to see it."

"Okay. Are we going straight there?"

 _Here we go._ "We're going to see the hairdresser first, remember? You don't have to have your hair cut if you don't want to, but it would make me really happy if you'd give it a try."

"I'll try for you, Mama," he promises, a little of the light returning to his eyes. "If you let me have my iPad."

My lips curl up into a wry smile. "Nice try, buddy, but no dice. You know the rules. If you're good at your dad's and you behave at school tomorrow, you can have your iPad when you get home."

Jace is a good kid at heart, and he knows as well as I do that I won't cave, so he offers me a grin and wiggles his way free of all the plushies to follow me next-door to his bedroom. The bag he tells me he's adamant he couldn't find is exactly where I told him it was. Rather than be frustrated, I fold the spare t-shirt and hoodie he passes me before packing them with the book he needs to read this week for school and his fidget cube. The cube is an absolute godsend when he can't have his iPad. I'm hoping it'll come in handy when I try to talk him into the hairdresser's chair.

 **~ i ~**

Pulling up outside the address Rosalie sent me, I double check to make sure we're at the right place before turning to face the backseat. Sadie's engrossed in an episode of Doc McStuffins on her tablet and Jace is leaning as far as his car seat allows to be able to watch over her shoulder. On her other side, Dillan's quite happy playing with his new Rubix cube. He's a little bit obsessed thanks to Carmen introducing him to the toy after the wedding.

"All right, you three. Let's get this show on the road."

As I corral them all into Sam's Barbers, I cross my fingers at Jace's back and pray his antsiness won't make this trip harder than it needs to be. Worst case scenario, he has a meltdown. It wouldn't be unheard of after the day he's already had. Best case...I can talk him into a chair and into having a little trim. His hair is an unruly mop and I know it's driving _him_ as crazy as it is me.

A relaxed young man with bright blue hair welcomes us as we step through the door, a bell chiming above our heads. "Hey there, guys. What can I do for ya?"

"Hi. Uh, we've got an appointment...Cullen?"

His finger runs down the book in front of him on the desk before he taps our name and grins widely. "Right on time. If you wanna take a seat, the boss will be out in just a sec."

As we pass the desk, I see that we've got a little silver star stuck next to the '4pm' slot. I assume it signifies that we've come to see a specific barber; the guy Rosalie's friend raved about often enough that she recommended him to us. Apparently he's brilliant with children with autism or sensory disorders. Rosalie's friend's daughter has been coming to him since she was two years old and hasn't had a bad cut yet, so I'm quietly hopeful.

"Thank you," I murmur, following Jace, Dillan, and Sadie over to the waiting area. I can already see differences between this place and the other hairdressers we've tried. For one, there's a tall bubble lamp that matches the one at home in the boys' room. There's also an abundance of toys for all ages and abilities in the big tubs in the corner, as well as a varied selection of children's books on a set of shelves painted in bright colors. Jace is already entranced by the lamp and we've only been here a couple of minutes, but he's usually on edge and itching to leave by now.

 _So far, so good._

" _Is my four o'clock here, Jude?"_ A voice calls from the back. 'The boss', I assume.

I smile as blue-haired Jude rolls his eyes and spins in his chair to yell, "Yes! So put the dumbbells down and get your hiney out here!"

It isn't until 'the boss' steps into the doorway, pulling a black t-shirt over his head and mumbling about disrespectful staff, that I realize I vaguely recognize his voice. "If you weren't my brother…"

Our eyes meet across the salon, my smile turning rueful as the tips of his ears redden. "I know you, don't I? I'm Sam. Sam Talley."

"You do," I admit with a light laugh. Rising from the comfortable club chair, I extend my hand to him when he crosses the room and extends a long arm in my direction. "You almost bulldozed me in a bar a few months ago."

"Oh God, I did, didn't I?" As his warm hand drops mine, we both turn to face Jude as he guffaws.

"You almost wiped her out? What the heck, man?"

"Don't you have some homework to do, or something?" Sam asks with an eyebrow raised and his lips pursed.

Jude huffs but admits that he has a science project to complete, then he heads out of the door Sam just came through.

Turning back to me, Sam grins. He's...more handsome than I remember. Straight white teeth in a tanned, clean-shaven face. His blue eyes are vivid and crinkled at the edges thanks to his smile. And true to any barber or hairdresser, his dark blond locks are styled in that artfully messy way only certain guys seem to be able to get away with.

"Bella, right? I remember you because I couldn't believe you'd have such a fitting na—" Cutting himself off, he blows out a breath. "I was going to be insanely cheesy then. Let's just say I remember your name, yeah?"

Snorting a laugh, I nod. "Okay, that suits me fine." A tug on my pants leg makes my smile widen. Sam's eyes follow mine as I peer down at Sadie.

"Can I go first for my haircut, Mama?"

"Sure, sweetheart." Scooping her onto my hip, I find myself wondering what Sam thinks about the fact that I'm here with my three children; wondering if he thinks I came here on purpose to see him.

Wondering if I'd have come here had I known Sam Talley, the guy who flirted with me after almost bulldozing me in a bar back in the summer, is the amazing barber Rosalie's friend has been raving about.

"Sadie, this is Sam."

"Hey there, little one. Well, you have great hair. I don't think we'll need to do much with it to make it look perfect."

The fastest way to Sadie's heart—besides candy, of course—is compliments. She's a sucker for a sweet-talker.

"Thank you! Can I get some blue in my hair, like the other guy?" Turning to me before Sam can answer, although he does stifle a chuckle which I'll choose to ignore for now, she asks, "Mama, can I? I like blue. Or purple!"

"You're a little young for hair dye, baby," I tell her carefully. "Maybe when you're older."

Lifting her little upper lip in a look of pure consternation, Sadie sighs. "When I'm four?"

" _Maybe_. For now, how about a hair _trim_ , huh?"

All it takes to distract Sadie from her new obsession—dyed hair—is Sam asking whether she wants to wear the princess-print cape or the My Little Pony one. My Little Pony wins, of course, so I take a seat back by the boys while my daughter chatters away to Sam. She's definitely not shy, that one.

A bemused smile remains on my face throughout her time in the chair. Well, right up until she decides it's appropriate to start telling him our life story, anyway.

"...so I get _two_ rooms now 'cause Mama and Daddy don't live together anymore. Isn't that cool?"

"Two rooms, huh?" I hear Sam mumble before his eyes catch mine for a moment. A hot flush spreads over my cheeks. "All right, Miss Sadie. You're all done. What do you think?"

Sadie's too over-the-moon happy with her new 'do and the pretty pink bow he's fastened in the side of her hair to continue down her original train of thought, much to my relief. "I love it, I love it, I love it! Thank you, Mr. Tabby!"

"It's 'Talley', sweetheart," I correct gently as she bounces out of the chair and over to me to show off her hair.

Laughing, Sam waves me off. "Tabby is fine, Bella, it's no problem. Okay, so who's up next?"

Dillan volunteers to go next. He's my fussiest child in terms of what kind of cut he likes. He always changes his mind a thousand times in the lead-up to a haircut, but today he opts for short on the back and sides, long on top. Sam makes his day by offering to style it for him, so by the time Dillan's all done and sauntering back over to me and his siblings, his dark hair is gelled up in a trendy side-sweep. "Don't I look cool?"

" _Very_ cool. Thank Mr…. _Tabby_."

Rolling his eyes at me, the embarrassing mom, Dillan thanks Sam, and then it's time to hold my breath for a moment because Jace knows as well as I do that it's his turn next. Sadie and Dillan are also suspiciously quiet as we all wait for Jace to tear his gaze away from the book in his lap.

"Harry Potter is my favorite book," Sam says softly before I can even open my mouth.

Jace's head pops up. "Who's your favorite wizard?"

Biting the inside of my cheek, I wait for Sam's answer and wonder if it'll determine how willing Jace is to leave his book and get in the chair.

Sam seems to contemplate it for a moment, rubbing his jaw. "I'd have to say...Draco."

 _Uh oh._

"What? Draco? Why? He's a bad guy!" Jace drops the book, eyeing Sam with suspicion.

Crouching so he's eye-level with my boy, Sam's twinkly-eyed smile seems to relax Jace. "When I was a kid, I had the same color hair as Draco. It was super blond, almost white-blond. My friends used to call me 'Draco' to make fun of me, but I kinda liked it."

"Huh. I guess that's an okay reason."

"Who's _your_ favorite? I bet it's Harry Potter. It's Harry, isn't it?"

Smirking, Jace shakes his head. Sam pretends to look surprised, furrowing his brows and twisting his lips. "Hmm. Ron Weasley?"

"Nope."

"What about...Hermione Granger? She's pretty cool, don't you think?"

"She _is_ cool, but it's not her." Now too excited to sit still, Jace is bouncing on his knees slightly. "It's Cedric Diggory. You know, from Hufflepuff."

"A noble choice," Sam says approvingly. "So, what do you say we go for a Cedric-inspired hair cut today? It's pretty similar to your hair now, just a little shorter."

 _Well, that sly devil._ Jace is more than happy to go along with it now he's put it like that, but I'm surprised to see Sam bringing a small tray of what I soon see are the usual hair cutting essentials over to Jace, rather than the other way around.

"Do you mind if hair gets on his shirt?" he asks quietly after asking Jace to pick out a brush from the selection. They've all got multi-colored handles and appear to be soft-bristled like a baby brush.

"No, that's fine. Hair brushes off easily enough."

"Great." Returning his attention to Jace, Sam asks, "Have you chosen a brush, buddy?"

"Yeah, I like this one." It's blue with red stripes, Jace's two favorite colors. He's never been able to decide on just one.

"That's a solid choice. Red and blue are my favorite colors."

My smile widens as Jace's mouth falls open. "Mine, too!"

Honestly, despite Sam's apparently easygoing nature, I'm expecting Jace to get sick of having his hair cut after approximately five minutes. Instead, he sits happily on a big cushion while Sam cuts his hair quickly but methodically, chatting away the whole time. Jace uses his brush to sweep away any hair that falls onto his arms, which is usually the first thing that triggers him. He can't tolerate wearing a cape like most hairdressers insist upon, but he also hates having hair falling all over him. This solution, giving him even just a little control over the situation, relaxes him.

When, halfway through, Jace decides he wants to look out of the window, I worry Sam will get frustrated. He simply nods and moves with him, asking Jace what he can see as he continues to cut the longer sections of his hair. It's admirable, really. There's no way I'd be able to cut hair with Jace moving around like he is, but Sam doesn't seem phased in the slightest.

"Mama, look at this! There's a little Jay, and Dill, and me!" Sadie cries, holding up three small plastic figures. She's right—they do look like her and her brothers.

"That's great, sweetie," I reply distractedly, shooting her a smile before returning my attention to Jace. He's fidgeting but tolerating Sam's scissors and comb. It's a step forward. A big one for my nervous boy. Accepting that he's okay for the moment, and feeling guilty for paying him more mind than his siblings as I so often have to, I slip from my seat and kneel beside Sadie and the miniature dolls house instead. She beams at me, offering me the mom doll, and resumes playing. With the power that only she possesses, as the younger sister and baby of the family, Sadie manages to talk Dillan into joining us, too. It's sweet. I'm at ease with Jace in Sam's capable hands, content in the knowledge that he's comfortable.

"There you go, buddy. All done. What do you say, you want to look in the mirror?"

Jace is all done in record time with no kicking off or whining. I'm delighted—and so, _so_ relieved. Pulling myself up off the floor, I'm in time to see Jace and Sam sharing broad smiles. My heart aches at the sight of my boy so happy; he's visibly proud of himself for sticking it out, and so am I.

"Sure." Jace sets down his brush and follows Sam over to one of the mirrors in front of the chairs, his face lighting up in a grin as he twists his head this way and that. "It looks just like Cedric!"

"It sure does," Sam agrees, shooting me a wink when I can't stifle my laugh. "I'm glad you like it."

"Look, Dill!" Jace rushes over to his brother to show off his hair, leaving me to pay up.

"Thank you," I murmur as Sam and I reach the desk, my throat thick. Having Jace's hair cut has always been so stressful. Sam took the anxiety out of what is usually a meltdown-inducing experience. "I've taken him to every hair place in Eastbourne as well as a bunch further afield and we've never had such a calm hair cut." Gazing back at my children playing in the corner, I manage to hold back the unexpected rush of tears. "You're a miracle worker, Sam. Really, _thank you_."

A large hand holding a few tissues appears in front of my eyes. Blinking up at him, I whisper my thanks and use the tissues to dry my eyes. I'd be emabarrassed if it weren't for his soft smile and understanding blue eyes. "You're welcome. And you don't need to be embarrassed. My niece, she's on the spectrum."

Reaching toward the corkboard on the wall beside the desk, he points to a photo of himself and a little girl with his blue eyes. "It's because of Kristen that I realized the traditional way of cutting hair wasn't going to work for everyone. Anyway, long story short, I have a lot of people calling up because their children need a little something extra, or something _less_ , to help them out. I know it's a big deal when your child manages to make it through a cut without getting upset."

"So you have a lot of overwhelmed moms crying on your shoulder, I suppose?" I tease, knowing it's true because his ears flush pink again. If that isn't the most adorable thing...a grown man who blushes.

"I uh, well that's not, not _entirely_ true—"

"Sam, I'm kidding, I'm kidding." _Well, sort of._

"Mama, we gotta go so we can get to Daddy's on time," Sadie insists, tugging the hem of my sweater. "Can we get apple pie on the way?"

"Sure, sweetie, we can get apple pies. Round up your brothers, please, and then we can go." While Sadie drags Jace and Dillan away from the toys, I pull out my purse. "How much do I owe—"

Sam's hand covers mine. "It's on the house, Bella. Don't even think about it."

"Oh, no, I couldn't—"

"Seriously, it's on me." A flash of _something_ appears in his eyes before the corners of his mouth twitch up into an almost smile. "Tell you what, I'll even throw in a drink. I won't even bulldoze you first this time."

"Sam, I…"

"C'mon, Mama, I wanna go see Daddy!" Sadie's back with her brothers in tow before I can argue...not that I'm even a hundred percent sure I _would_. I mean, I _should_. I should be arguing. I shouldn't even be considering accepting Sam's offer of taking me for a drink. But I am.

Edward and I...I don't know if there even _is_ an 'Edward and I' anymore. Not after what happened at the weekend. My emotions are all over the place and I still don't know how I'm going to feel when I see him in just a little while.

"Think about it, okay? That's all I'm asking. Just...think about it." Sam slides a card from the holder on the desk, pressing it into my hand with a look in his eyes that tells me he might be figuring out where my hesitation comes from. "You know where to find me."

I don't have time to stand and argue, so I thank him instead and wrangle my children out into the car. As we pull away, I can't help but look up at the eyes I can feel following me. Sam offers me a little wave and a grin; one I bashfully return before backing out of the parking lot and heading toward Old Town.

Toward Edward.

 **~ i ~**

 _ **Edward**_

"Daddy!"

 _Finally._

"Princess, c'mere!"

There's no feeling like having my babies in my arms after four days of not seeing them. It's been months since I moved out but I'll never get used to having to go days between squeezy hugs from my princess and goofy grins from my boys. That part of this separation never gets easier.

"I missed you, Daddy," Sadie tells me solemnly, cupping my face between her tiny hands and pursing her lips.

 _God, I missed you, princess._ "I missed you, too, Sadiebug."

Dillan and Jace race out of the car to join their sister, slamming into me like wrecking balls. "Whoa, guys, careful!" I can't help but laugh even as all four of us almost topple over on the street outside my office.

"Look, Dad, we got haircuts!" Dillan crows, pulling back to show off his new cut. I grin, snapping my hand back when he throws me a disgusted look for even attempting to ruffle his new 'do. He looks older. It's as scary as it is neat to see my boy growing up before my very eyes.

"You look great, son. Very cool. Did you two get new haircuts, too?"

"Yep, look at my bow, Daddy."

Even while I'm fussing over Sadie's pink bow, I can't help but glance at Jace. A bolt of surprise shoots through my veins when I realize his hair is different, too. Not in the slightly haphazard, rushed way his haircuts often turn out, either.

"And you, Jay?"

My eyes briefly slide over to Bella as she leans against the hood of her car. The proud smile on her face mirrors the one on Jace's as I refocus on him. "I got my hair cut, too. Sam did a really good job. He was super nice, too. He let me look out the window and brush my arms instead of making me sit on the chair in front of the mirror."

"That's awesome, Jay! I'm so proud of you." Tugging him over, I give him a good, solid hug before grabbing Dillan, too. "I'm proud of all of you. My brilliant babies."

"Can we go inside and see your office?"

"Not today, pal." Standing, I unlock my car with the fob. It's parked right beside Bella's, so they can hop right in. "Jump in, guys, and I'll come buckle you up in a second. I just want to talk to your mom quickly."

"'Kay, Daddy."

It's easy to smile as I watch the kids hugging and kissing their mom ready for a night with me. Until I look at Bella's face, anyway. She's wearing the same expression I guess I wear when this is the other way around. I know I don't look happy when I drop them back with her, and she doesn't look thrilled right now. Or even a little happy, actually. But she tries—we both do.

"Have fun with Daddy, okay? I'll see you tomorrow right after school."

"Be good, Mama," Sadie warns before giggles burst out of her little body.

"Oh, you…" Bella laughs, peppering her face and hair with kisses before sighing deeply and carrying her to the backseat of my car. Jace and Dillan have already accepted being smothered in smooches, so they clamber in ahead of their sister. By the time Bella's blown them all one last kiss each, closed the door, and rejoined me on the sidewalk, I've just managed to remember what I wanted to talk to her about.

"So, uh...how are you?"

"I'm good, everything's good." Glancing at her watch, she offers me an apologetic wince. "I'm sorry, the traffic...I know we're a little late."

"It's fine, don't worry. I was last here anyway, so I just waited inside until I saw your car pull in." _Now for the bit I'm nervous about._ "So, my boss...his dog had a litter of puppies a while back. Labradors?"

"Oh, really?" I can see from the look on her face that she's wondering why I'm bringing this up. It hasn't clicked—yet. "That's cool. Did you have labs growing up?"

"Yeah, we did. Two." Remembering our placid yellow labradors, Molly and Mitzy, still makes me smile over twenty years after they passed. "Bella, I probably should have talked to yo—"

The sudden, too-loud ringing of her cell cuts me off. Forcing a smile I don't feel, I gesture for her to get it.

"Sorry, I'll be quick." She tells me, answering the phone with a cheery greeting for whoever's on the other end of the line.

Twisting my wedding ring around my finger absentmindedly, I can't help but grin at the thought of the kids' faces when I get them home. They're gonna be so happy with their gift. I put a lot of thought into it but in the end, their guaranteed happiness won over the slight impracticality. It'll be great. I can't wait to see their smiles when they walk through the door in a little bit.

"All right, Alex, calm down. It's fine, I can be there in ten minutes. Of course. It's no problem, really. Just call and let them know I'm on my way. I'll see you later." Turning back to me, Bella's already edging toward her car. "I'm sorry, Edward, can this wait? AJ's sick at after-school club but Nessa and Alex are both stuck at work."

 _Great_. "No, that's fine, go on. Give the little guy a hug from me, all right?"

"Sure. Thank you. We'll talk later, okay? Or...tomorrow, why don't you come for dinner? The children will love it."

When we talked on Monday, we agreed that the children can only benefit from seeing us getting along. We've made plans to take them on our annual London Zoo trip for Halloween, so why not go to dinner? I'm free tomorrow, anyway. "That'd be good. I'll bring dessert."

She's not even really listening at this point, already halfway in the car, but Bella waves distractedly and calls an agreement before taking off.

Okay, so I guess she'll find out about the kids' gift tomorrow, then. That's fine. She's gonna love it, anyway.

 **~ i ~**

"You got them a _what_?"

 _All right, so maybe she doesn't love it_.

Bella's hands find their way into her hair—something I'd find funny in other circumstances because it's a gesture she's picked up from me. "I can't believe you...Edward, don't you think this is something we should have talked about?"

"I tried!" I point out. "I tried to tell you yesterday."

My mistake is immediately obvious, though. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. "Yester...you'd already bought it then! It would have been too late even if I had said _no_!"

So, that's true. Shit.

"Bella, look...it's not that bad. The kids love—"

" _Mama, look!"_ Sadie squeals from the backyard, the open patio doors letting her voice inside.

Sucking in a deep breath, Bella slowly turns to look out at the children playing with their new present. I can't see her face, but I _do_ hear her quiet laugh when she spots the eight-week-old chocolate lab rolling around the grass with Jace. The kids voted last night after their initial excitement when they got home and found him in his little bed in the living room. The final choice was between Button and Rolo, and Rolo was the winner by majority vote.

"A puppy is a _huge_ commitment, Edward," Bella finally breaths, turning back to me with defeat all over her face. She knows as well as I do that there's no taking that puppy away from Jace, Dillan, and Sadie now. I was sort of banking on that, to be honest, as awful as it sounds. "What are you going to do with him when you're working all day?"

"Well, that was actually what I wanted to talk to you about…"

"Oh, no." My lips curl into a grin as she takes a step back and raises her hands. "No way. You want _me_ to have him?"

"I figure he can stay with the kids. When you have them, he's with you, and when I have them, he comes along, too. It's the perfect solution!"

"Oh, sure, because he'll be a great addition to my studio when I have to lug him with me to take pictures of people's newborns, or when I've got to do the school and nursery run twice in a day _as well as_ going to the studio in between. I can't...God, Edward. I can't believe you'd do something like this without even consulting me."

In hindsight, keeping Bella in the dark until it was too late to do anything about it probably wasn't my best or brightest idea, but like I said before, I was sort of counting on the kids falling in love with the little furball before Bella could say 'no'. I'm well aware that they find my apartment boring compared to their home with all their toys, a big backyard…I'm hoping that Rolo, who'll come backward and forward with them, will sweeten the deal. They can't bring their bedrooms and all their toys with them to my place, but they can bring their new best friend. That's the hope, anyway. I just need Bella to agree.

Jace, Dillan, Sadie, and Rolo come clattering onto the house before Bella can chew me out like I suspect she wants to.

"Mama, look. He already knows how to sit!" Dillan tells her proudly, facing the pup before saying 'sit!' To his credit, Rolo _does_ sit—before tumbling over sideways trying to chew his rear paw.

"See? He's real well behaved, Mama," Jace tells her, scooping Rolo into his arms. "Can he stay? We'll help look after him. You'll barely have to do anything."

I plaster an innocent smile on my face and mentally cross everything that Bella will forget her annoyance at me and focus on how happy the kids are. I watch with bated breath as she looks at them, pausing on Jace kissing the puppy's shiny brown nose before landing on me. Her narrowed eyes last barely a few seconds before she rolls them, throwing her hands in the air.

"Fine. He can stay. But the first time he pees in my house or chews up one of my shoes, he's going to live with your dad as he's the one who bought him. Deal?"

"Deal! Thanks, Mama. Love you!" If she hadn't already given in, the hugs and kisses the children rain over her would do the trick. To be honest, the sight of them so happy makes me a bit mushy. All I ever want for my babies is for them to be happy and healthy.

"C'mon, Rolo," Sadie sings, "let's get you some snacks. Daddy, where's Rolo's snacks?"

"In the bag by the front door, princess."

Jace puts Rolo down and then the little gang of four trail out into the hall to dig through the bag of stuff I picked up from the pet store before collecting Rolo yesterday lunchtime, which leaves me with a still-mad but thawing Bella.

"I really am sorry, Bella. I should have talked it through with you before making such a big decision." My apology is genuine, and I guess she can see that, because she rolls her eyes again but her smile widens.

"It's okay. Just...no more pets, _please_. I think we have enough going on right now without adding more to our plates, hmm?"

It's so _, so_ hard to withhold my smirk, but I just about manage. "All right. So, truce?"

Laughing softly, her eyes bright and her face split in a wide smile that makes my chest ache, Bella agrees. "Truce."

 **~ i ~**

"Sleep tight, buddy."

"Night, Daddy— _yawn_ —love you."

Stroking Dillan's hair away from his face, I grin and lean down to press a kiss to his forehead. He's already out when I pull back and whisper _love you, too_ into the quiet room. After checking on Jace—who's also out like a light—I sneak from the room and head downstairs. Bella's still in the kitchen where I left her, but she's left the breakfast bar and has her back to me as she washes up.

The nostalgia hits me unexpectedly hard. This scene...me tucking the children into bed while she gets started on the dishes so we can relax and watch TV together, it's familiar but not. The last couple of years of me being here, it wasn't like this. More often than not I wasn't even here when the kids went to bed; I'd stumble home drunk a few hours later once Bella had done all the hard work. But the first year of having our babies home was perfect. We were so happy, so tired but content with the three children we'd longed for.

 _Then I fucked it all up_.

My long sigh alerts Bella to my return. She shoots me a small smile over her shoulder. "Hey. Did they all go down okay?"

"Yeah," I say softly, bypassing the stools to pick up a towel so I can dry the dishes as Bella washes. "Sadie wanted another story, so she got two. The boys were fine, though. They were all knackered, anyway."

Humming, Bella shakes her head. "That'll be running around after the puppy."

My lips curl into a little grin as I look over at Rolo snuggled up in his bed in the corner, legs in the air and the tip of his pink tongue poking out. He's a sweet little thing; the kids love him, just like I hoped they would. "I think you're right."

We wash and dry in comfortable silence for a bit before Bella finally stops and looks up at me with furrowed brows. "Why did you do it? Saturday night, I mean."

And...my mind goes blank. Well, not _blank_ , exactly, but there's nothing in there I want to verbalize to Bella.

Memories of Saturday night flow through my mind in a heady rush. She was stunning even in just a simple knitted dress and boots, but _out_ of them? Bella's never been more beautiful. She was always a pretty girl but as a woman, a mother, my growing respect for her only makes her more attractive. Without an almost constant flow of alcohol through my veins, I'm remembering all the things that I loved the most about Bella. And with the fresh reminder of how great we are together, I find it difficult to work out why she even needs to ask _why_. I know she enjoyed Saturday night as much as I did; she's no actor. I may have instigated it, but she was a more-than-willing participant.

Still, that doesn't mean it was a good idea. Shit, I know it wasn't. Sex always complicates things, especially in our situation.

"Bella, I…" Sighing and raking a hand through my hair, I set the towel down and try to gather my thoughts. "Saturday night was amazing. The whole day was. But we shouldn't...we're still figuring all this out. And I—"

I stop myself before I can go any further. I've been doing well. My life is slowly coming together and piece-by-piece, I'm putting everything back in order. The steps I've had to take have been steep. I want her to be proud of me. Perhaps foolishly, I want to wait until I have more to show for my recent efforts than just empty words. She's heard it all before, I know. I've told her a hundred times that I'll do better, _be better_ , and look where we've ended up.

I want to be the man she deserves. I want to be the man worthy of her love and respect; the one she married and wanted to have children with because she believed I'd be a good husband and father. I haven't been that man for a long time, but I'm determined to become him again.

Eyes downcast, Bella chews her lip. "It wasn't a good idea, doing what we did. We'd both had too much to drink and weddings, they're emotional. I didn't think putting labels on what we are now was a good idea at first, but maybe we should. Maybe we need to have that talk and either call it quits for good or try…"

The thought of calling it quits, of marking this as _the end_ , kills me. A lump lodges itself in my throat and my stomach rolls, Bella's chicken parm almost making its way back up and out. "Do you—" Clearing my throat, I try again. "Do you want that? To call it quits?"

Here we are. On the cusp of something big, something important. We're not always good at communicating, Bella and I. Now I realize why. It's _hard_. I'm terrified of her answer. Tears glisten on her lashes as she looks up at me with her brows still furrowed and her lip between her teeth.

She's beautiful. Big brown eyes and, when I'm not being an ass, a smile that absolutely wrecks me in all the best ways. Kind, caring, funny, and the best mother to our children I could ever have asked for.

 _God, I've been a fool. An absolute idiot. I don't deserve her, not even a little. But I'm determined to try and earn her trust._

"I don't think we can ever call it quits, can we? I mean, it's _us_."

Anything I might have wanted to say dies in my throat, because _that_ isn't what I expected her to say.

"But, Edward, we can't keep doing this. We need to figure this out. We can't keep messing with each other's heads the way we have been."

Nodding and attempting to find words, I tug my hair and blink away a sudden onslaught of tears. I'm not a crier, not usually, but recently...I've been more in touch with my emotions, less influenced by alcohol. Aside from the wedding, I haven't been drinking. It's been hard but my family is worth fighting for. They're worth everything.

"I agree," I finally manage. "I've messed up, but I want to be better, Bella. I want to be the man you fell in love with. I want to be the guy you can count on rather than the dead weight you have to put up with."

Sniffling, she smiles. "We've both messed up along the way, Edward. And we've both apologized. It's time to move forward and just...enjoy any time of truce, right? Let's not jump into anything, but we can at least agree that this isn't the end and we're both working on ourselves."

"That sounds pretty perfect, actually." I want to tell her everything—everything I've been doing to better myself for her and for our kids. It's not the right time, though. After all my empty promises, she'll need proof, and that's just fine. I can wait.

I just hope she can, too.

* * *

 **If you haven't already checked it out, I posted my FAGE (Fic Awesome Gift Exchange) piece for EternallyCullen today! Winds Of Change is up and complete on my profile, so if you like Veterinarianwards and single-mom Bellas, check it out ;)**


	12. Maybe This Time

**Hey there! I can only apologise profusely for the long wait between chapters and lack of response to reviews. Writer's block has been a pain in the ass, but I think I've finally cracked it. I'm still not 100% happy with this chapter, but I think it's as good as I can get it.  
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 **Thank you so much to everyone for continuing to cheer me on and loving these characters as much as I do. As usual, this one's unbeta'd, so any mistakes are all mine. And a few of you were mad about only getting a short piece from Edward's point of view in the last chapter, so he got some more time in this one.**

* * *

 **Summary:** Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognisable characters; those are all Stephenie Meyer's.**

 **No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **~ oOo ~**

 **Dandelions**

 **Maybe This Time**

 _ **Bella**_

 _ **September 28th**_ _ **, 2018…**_

"Dammit, Rolo!"

The words tumble from my lips with ease; they've quickly become one of the top five phrases I cry, moan, or shout throughout the day. The puppy pauses in the middle of the carnage that was once a box of toilet roll; big, chocolate eyes gaze at me as his tail slowly starts to wag. He's a cute little thing, but _oh my God_ , he's a pain in the ass. Much to everyone's amusement but my own, my threat to pack Rolo off to Edward's fell through at the first hurdle when he pointed out that he works long days and doesn't have a back yard, so potty-training the little furball will be virtually impossible at his apartment.

" _Mama, we're gonna be la-ate!"_ Sadie sings from...somewhere. The bottom of the stairs, I guess. I left her down there with Dillan, Jace, and orders to get their shoes and coats on while I hunted down Rolo. The devil dog _knows_ his name—he just chooses to ignore it the majority of the time. Usually when it's me calling him.

"Come on, you little devil. I'll have to clean this up later." Scooping the pup off the floor complete with soggy tissues hanging from his drooly jaws, I hustle back downstairs. Jace, Dillan, and Sadie cackle when they spot Rolo.

"Uh oh. Did he get into the toilet roll again?" Dillan asks between giggles as he shoves his foot into his shoe without bothering to unfasten the straps.

"Put your shoes on properly, please," I request as I breeze past him and his siblings, bypassing the living room to head straight to the kitchen. Settling the pup into his bed with a pre-stuffed Kong, I double-check the door and eye him speculatively. His eyes follow my slow steps back toward the baby gate separating the kitchen from the hall. " _Stay_ …" I tell him softly but firmly, so he knows I mean business. Half a step later, he's bounding across the floor and crashing into my legs.

After two days of having Rolo around the house, there's no doubt that the furball has grown on me. He _is_ cute, and it's adorable seeing the kids with him, but it's like having a newborn all over again—one that not only doesn't sleep through the night, wets himself routinely, and has to be with someone twenty-four-seven, but he also chews anything he can get his needle teeth on and thinks it's great to steal stuff and run away with it so someone, invariably me, has to chase him.

"You can't come with me, little guy," I tell him pointlessly. Obviously, he doesn't understand a word I'm saying unless it's 'food' or, when he feels like it, 'sit'. That's as far as we've gotten with his training so far. My watch beeps to tell me we're seriously late and should have left ten minutes ago, so I quickly put Rolo back in his bed and send a text to mom to remind her of her promise to stop in and check on him while I'm out. Then it's time to wrestle the children into their car seats and get them to school and nursery as quickly as the speed limit allows.

Thankfully, we make it just in time. The janitor laughs quietly as I dash past him attempting to close the gates, Sadie on my hip and the boys running ahead. He's still there when I return after dropping Jace and Dillan at their classroom.

"Bye!" Sadie calls cheerfully, waving over my shoulder as I rush back toward the car. "Mama, are we goin' to Daddy's today?"

"Not today, baby." It's hard, but I just about manage to withhold my grimace. Edward asked if he could move his pick-up day to tomorrow and keep the children through to Monday morning, instead. I agreed, but I _am_ a little frustrated. I thought we were making strides with this co-parenting thing, but he's already prioritizing other things over his children. He knows as well as I do that change impacts them deeply—Jace, in particular. They've gotten used to the routine over the past weeks.

Monday to Wednesday morning with Mama, Daddy's after school, then home to Mama's until Friday, when they get to spend a couple of nights with Daddy.

They're used to that now. It's familiar. Any unnecessary adjustments to that schedule are hard work.

"Where _are_ we goin', then? Nana's?"

"Gamma and Pops's house. Lily and Henry are having a sleepover, too. Won't that be fun?"

The roads are mercifully quiet on the way to Sadie's nursery, so we make good time. Sadie chatters away for the duration of the trip asking question after question.

"Yes, Gamma will pick you up. I don't know if Pops will come, too. Yes, Rolo is coming, too. And I really don't know what you'll be having for tea." Twisting in my seat with a wry smile, I ask, "Anything else?"

Smiling brightly and toying with the straps of her little backpack in her lap, Sadie shakes her curl-covered head. "Nope, that's it, Mama. Let's go!"

 **~ i ~**

I'm just pulling into the parking lot outside Tanya's office when my phone rings. Answering it through the car speakers as I'm a little early, anyway, I can't help but bite my lip when I hear the voice of the caller.

" _Is this Bella Cullen?"_

"It is. Hi, Sam."

 _What's_ he _calling for?_ I wonder as he clears his throat.

" _Sorry to call out of the blue. I, uh, I got your number from the appointments book. I hope that's okay. We found a fidget cube yesterday morning and we've asked around, but so far, nobody has claimed it. Could it be yours, maybe?"_

"Shit."

He barks a warm laugh. " _I'm going to assume you've been missing a cube?"_

"We have." Sighing, I run a hand through my hair before closing my eyes and resting my head back against the headrest. Of course it's at Sam's. How did I not think of checking there? For the last two days, Jace has been asking for his cube and I've had to try and distract him with other things because I couldn't place where he'd last had it. "I can come and pick it up later today, if that works for you."

" _I'm here until six, but my flat is above the shop, so even if it's after that, I'll be here. You have my number now, so just give me a bell if I'm not downstairs."_

"That's perfect, thank you." Without checking my diary, which is at home on my desk, I can't remember exactly what time the cake smash shoot this afternoon is. "I'm out at the moment, but I'll check my diary as soon as possible and let you know when I'll be over. Thank you again, Sam."

" _No problem, Bella_." There's an audible sigh; I hold my breath, waiting to hear what he wants to say, but he obviously decides better of it. " _I'll see you later, then."_

"Yes," I breathe, staring out of the windshield at the therapist's office as he hangs up with a beep, the car suddenly silent without his voice and the background noise of the salon. The reflection of a car pulling up beside mine in the windows makes me turn my head, an instinctive smile slightly curling my lips when Edward waves through the window before climbing out.

It's our first session together in a little while, so it's a little awkward as we head into the waiting area and check in with the receptionist before taking two armchairs to wait for Tanya to finish up with her previous client. A huge part of me wants to ask what he's doing today that's so important he can't have his children, but it's not my place to ask, I don't think. I'd guessed that he was working or something, but he's not dressed for work. The cropped sweatpants and t-shirt he's wearing definitely don't scream 'real estate agent'.

"So, how's the pup doing?"

My scowl must say it all, because Edward can't hold back his laughter. His eyes crinkle with his amusement, his tee riding up when he rakes a hand through his messy hair. My scowl falls slightly, my eyes drawn to the faint ridges etched in his lower stomach. As a teen and a young man, Edward always kept himself trim and fit. The last couple of years of drinking and slacking at the gym ruined all that.

 _Although…_

Now I'm really looking, he _does_ look leaner. More like his old self. It's been a gradual change, so I haven't noticed it until now, but his shirt clings to muscles that I haven't seen in a long time. My alcohol-warped memories from the wedding are fuzzy, but I can vaguely remember firm biceps and the reappearance of abs that had been hidden amidst a small beer gut.

"Bella?"

Blinking rapidly, I feel my cheeks heating. "Sorry, lost in thought. Ah, Rolo...he's doing good. He's mischievous, that's for sure."

Edward's smirk widens. "Yeah? How do the kids like him?"

"They think he's great. Until he chews up their toys, anyway. It's funny when it's the toilet roll or one of _my_ things. It's not so funny when it's Batman or one of Sadie's Barbie dolls getting the chomp."

"Uh oh. Other than that, though?"

Fishing my cell from my pocket, I pull up my new screensaver as of last night. He leans in and breathes out a sigh as the image of the children and Rolo all bundled up together on the sofa illuminates the screen. They fell asleep wrapped up in a blanket after running around the garden with a football all evening.

"Can you send that to me?"

"Sure." With the press of a few buttons, I share the picture into the family WhatsApp group, instead—Edward can get it from there, and I know the rest of the family will get a kick out of it.

"Thanks."

The door across the room opens then, Tanya's smile brightening when she sees us sitting close together. "Hello, you two. Are you ready?"

 _As I'll ever be._

Edward and I both share a look and I'm suddenly sure I wasn't the only one thinking that. The realization warms me.

For the first time in a _long_ time, it really feels like we're in this together.

 **~ i ~**

As usual, therapy leaves me feeling a little drained, but I also leave the session feeling buoyed by our ability to be honest with each other no matter how hard it is. We're learning. Tanya wasn't wholly impressed to hear about our drunken debacle last weekend, but she's visibly surprised when we admit that we've talked about it and agreed that it shouldn't happen again. I replay our conversation in my head as I drive home to grab a few things before heading to the studio.

" _There's nothing wrong with sex between two consenting adults, but you're right, Edward," Tanya says calmly, "it_ can _complicate things in this situation. Then again, you've both admitted that it made you re-evaluate where you are in your relationship going forward. You've turned something that could have knocked you back into a positive, and that's great."_

 _Eyeing Edward, I admit, "It definitely made me think about us as a couple rather than just parents to Jace, Dillan, and Sadie."_

 _Tanya nods, her cool eyes shining with pride. "That's great, Bella. And you felt comfortable talking to Edward about those thoughts?"_

" _I did. We had a good talk, I think…?"_

 _Thankfully, Edward's nodding. "We know that communication has been one of our biggest issues, so working on that is helping massively. Making a conscious effort to include Bella in my thought processes is becoming second-nature again."_

 _There aren't words to describe how happy his admission makes me. For so long, I felt like I was hanging onto the edge of him without any insight into how he was feeling or what he was thinking. We're making progress._

" _I'm glad to hear that, Edward. When we first started these sessions, you admitted that you were aware you'd been pushing Bella away. How does it feel to be working toward repairing that damage and closing the distance between you and Bella?"_

 _His heavy sigh shakes his whole body. "It's freeing. I don't think I realized how much damage I was causing. That sounds stupid, but…" My chest tightens as his brows furrow. "I think, I was too caught up with the drink to really_ see _what was going on around me. Does that...make sense?"_

 _My heart hurts for him. I've known and loved the boy, the man, the father, the husband—the alcoholic. Now I'm getting to know him all over again. It's scary and exciting and a massive relief, but that's just for me. I can't imagine what this feels like for him. I can't comprehend how he's feeling when he finally admits that he'd been choosing alcohol over his family for a long time before my indiscretion acted as the catalyst to our separation._

 _Tension radiates from Edward's frame as he avoids my eyes and speaks to his sneakers. "I hate that it happened, but Bella kissing our neighbor…"_

 _I wince; in the back of my mind, I notice that Edward still refuses to say Demetri's name._

" _It was the best wake-up call I could have received."_

" _How so, Edward?" Tanya asks gently._

" _Nothing else was working, was it? Bella confronted me so many times, tried to help me even more. I wasn't listening. I had to persuade Bella to date me in the first place," Edward's lips tip into the slightest of nostalgic smiles. "But I always knew she'd be faithful to me, just the same as I'd never cheat on her."_

 _My stomach knots. But I_ did _. In a lot of people's eyes, it was 'just a kiss'. But not to me, and not to Edward. Yes, it was a kiss, and yes, it was brief_ — _but it was still cheating, and it was so out of character that it shook us both. Maybe without the rest of what was going on with Edward's drinking and our abysmal communication, it wouldn't have been such a big deal._

 _But without the rest, would it have happened at all? We'll never know. It'll be an unknown that plagues us until we either move on from it or let it define our relationship going forward._

As I pull up outside the house, my stomach sinks. Across the street, Demetri is also pulling in. I've managed to avoid him for the most part, even though I know that's unfair. Apart from Gianna's parents, who watch DJ when they can, Demetri doesn't have anybody but his son. It's not fair that we've abruptly abandoned him even if things are awkward at the moment. I hesitate a moment before turning away from my house and jogging across the street.

Demetri's surprise is written all over his face. "Hey, Bella."

"Hi." Standing a few feet away from him, DJ sound asleep in the backseat of his dad's car and Demetri staring blankly at me, I have no idea what I was thinking. "I, uh...how are you? How've you been?"

"I've been good," he says slowly. "How about you? Everything good with you and Edward?"

 _Awkward. This is so incredibly awkward._ But Demetri and I have been friends for years and this shouldn't be so painful, so I push on and blow out a deep breath. "We're working on things."

Nodding, Demetri rubs the back of his neck. "I kinda figured that much. His car hasn't been around…"

"He moved out, got an apartment in Old Town. We've been going to therapy and I think we've really turned it around."

For the first time in weeks, Demetri aims a genuine smile in my direction. It's small, but it's there. "I'm really happy for you, Bella. That's great news."

"Yeah. Look, Demetri, I'm—"

"Can I just stop you there?"

Snapping my mouth shut, I nod.

He sucks in a big breath and reaches out to squeeze my shoulder. "You're about to apologize, but there's really no need to, okay? What happened was a mistake, we both know that. We'd had a few too many drinks and we were both overly emotional. We were both to blame. If we can, I just want to move on from it and go back to normal." His smile takes over his whole face as he adds, "Can we maybe call an end to the avoidance tactics?"

As we both laugh at ourselves and how ridiculous this whole mess has gotten, I push aside the lingering awkwardness and pull him into a quick hug. "Absolutely, we can."

I can't help but feel like things are slowly starting to fall back into place.

 **~ i ~**

 _ **Edward**_

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Tugging at my hair, I admit, "I'm not sure. Honestly, seeing Bella and Demetri earlier has knocked my confidence in the plan."

Ceasing his annoying spinning in my chair, Emmett frowns. "Why? You don't think anything's going on between them, do you? 'Cause, bro, I don't want to have to knock some sense into you…"

"No, no, I don't think that." _At least, I'm trying not to._ "My self-esteem is just all over the place lately. I'm working on it." From my spot leaning against the side of my cubicle, I can see the photo frames on my desk. There are four, all of them cherished.

The first is of Bella and I with the kids the day Sadiebug finally came home. The second is from our first family holiday. We—along with my parents, Charlie, and Renee—flew out to Forks for two weeks. This particular image is of us below the 'Welcome to Forks' sign and I think it was the first time Bella and I really felt like our family was complete, like we'd come full circle from the naive teens we'd been when we first started dating.

The last two pictures put a nostalgic smile on my face. One shows Bella and I on our wedding day as we walked back down the aisle after becoming Mr. and Mrs. Cullen, and the other is of us three Christmases later. Just a week before, we'd agreed that our baby-making efforts weren't working and we needed to look into other options for expanding our family. Our smiles are bright as we pose in front of the Christmas tree at Charlie and Renee's, but the heaviness of our recent realization is obvious in our tired eyes. I keep the photo around because it immortalizes an important time in our lives. That realization eventually led us to adoption, to Jace, Dillan, and Sadie.

Idly, I wonder what the holidays this year will look like; I wonder whether we'll be together or apart, taking turns having the children or spending Thanksgiving and Christmas as a family. I'm hoping for the latter, of course. The thought of not seeing my babies on Christmas morning kills me. I know it would kill Bella, too.

"So, run through this again. What did you tell Bella about tonight?"

Refocusing, I turn back to my brother and heave a sigh to bolster myself. I wasn't kidding when I said my self-esteem has taken a massive hit recently. Seeing her hugging Demetri earlier didn't help. I intended to stop by and take Rolo off her hands for a few hours, but the sight of Demetri and Bella hugging and smiling at each other distracted me and I drove straight past the house.

I know Emmett's right and there's nothing going on between them, but sometimes, I can't help but wonder if Bella would be better off without me. Lately, I have those moments of doubt all too often. It takes me a while each time to remember that, despite what my shitty behavior might say about me, I love the bones of that woman. I'd do anything for her—for Bella _and_ our kids.

Now I've just got to prove it.

"I rescheduled my days with the kids so that I have tonight free, and I know she'll be home because I had Rose hit her up to check her plans and she doesn't have any."

Emmett chuckles. "Sneaky, bro."

"I could have just asked her, but I didn't want to tip her off."

"Sure. Okay, so what have you actually got planned?"

 _Now for the part I'm nervous about_.

 **~ i ~**

As my watch beeps to tell me it's six p.m. on the dot, I rap sharply on the front door before I can talk myself out of it. The minute it takes for footsteps to approach the door and the click of the lock to disengage seems to drag on forever. The hand holding the bouquet of white roses trembles as I lift the other toward my hair, remembering at the last second that I made a concerted effort to tidy it up. I shove that hand in my pants pocket instead just as the door opens enough for Bella's face to peek out at me. Her eyes widen.

"Edward? What are you…" Bella's gaze catches the flowers extended toward her then, her lips falling open in a small 'O' of surprise. "Why...umm, what's going on?"

Clearing my throat, I just about manage to muster a nervous smile. "Isabella Cullen, I've loved you every day of my life for the past thirteen years. I've made mistakes—"

"We _both_ have," she interjects softly.

Nodding, I concede. "Okay, we've both made mistakes. We've got three amazing kids and, before I fucked it all up, I think we had a pretty great life together."

Even as tears fill her eyes, she's smiling. "We did. A fantastic life."

"Bella, I know I have no right to ask favors of you, but if you'll allow me just one, I hope it's this. Can we start over? Can we just...be strangers again? I mean, not completely, because obviously we have the kids, but why don't we spend some time getting to know each other the way we are _now_? I know so many things about you from how you like your coffee to how you always brush your hair from the left side of your head to the right. I remember stupid things like the fact that you love horror movies but you cover your eyes through most of them. Your favorite color is purple except at Christmas when you only want to rear red and green clothes."

Her tearful giggle joins my chuckle when she opens the door wider to reveal her purple pajamas. I have to swallow the lump in my throat to be able to speak when I recognize them as the set the kids helped me pick out for her birthday a couple of weeks ago.

"I want to relearn all your favorites and get to know the amazing woman you are, all over again. We can create new memories to drown out the old, shitty ones." Swallowing hard and twisting my wedding ring around my finger, I choke out, "Let's give each other a second chance, Bella. Can you do that? Will you give me another chance to be the man you always thought I'd be?"

 **~ i ~**

Forty minutes later, Bella and I sit across from each other at one of our long-time favorite restaurants. My grin couldn't be any wider, I don't think. She looks radiant. After tearfully accepting my invite to dinner, Bella changed out of her pajamas into a familiar blue dress and a pair of heels that make her legs look endless even though she's barely taller than five foot. Despite her worry, the messy bun she twisted her hair into looks effortlessly beautiful, and the lack of make-up on her face gives me an uninhibited view of her flushed cheeks when I raise my glass of coke in the air.

"To fresh starts."

Smiling bashfully and lightly tapping my glass with her own, she murmurs, "To _us_."

Once the waiter has taken our order—Bella opts for her favorite mushroom ravioli while I choose a simple chicken salad, which will hopefully be lighter on my knotted stomach—we talk. _Really_ talk. About the silly, the sweet, the mundane, the funny...the difficult.

She admits that she's lonely and cries most nights the children are with me because this life, the way we're living right now, isn't what she wanted for us. I admit that I've shed more tears in the last few months than in the thirty-one years before.

It's...liberating.

Over soft drinks and delicious food, we laugh and commiserate over the highs and lows of raising our children—each high maintenance in their own way, but cherished for that same exact reason. She tells me that she fidget cube we've been looking for, for the last two days was at the barber's where she took the kids Wednesday, and that she can't wait to give it back to Jace.

Our conversation swerves into marginally uncomfortable territory when she brings up Demetri and tells me how guilty she feels about the whole mess we've found ourselves in. We used to have date nights with him and Gianna—and later, just him. We all enjoyed the games nights and meals out, and I have no qualms admitting that I miss the adult time.

Bella's expression softens as I confess, "I've missed this. I've missed being _us_ , Edward and Bella."

"Me, too."

The weight lifted off my shoulders by her admission is enormous. I suck in a deep breath and hesitate before reaching across the table. My heart warms, thumping away like a jackhammer when she twines her small fingers with mine and gives them a hard squeeze.

"Is it wrong?"

"I don't think so," she says softly, comforting me even when I'm not sure what I need her to say. "We were just _Edward and Bella_ for a long time before we became parents. And then the accident…"

 _Took everything from me._

No—not everything.

Everything is sitting across from me with a frown curving her brows and my heart in the palm of her hand. Everything is tearing up my parents' house with Rolo. My family, my wife and children, _they're_ my everything.

"I need to tell you something." Bella's eyes widen, worry further marring her features. "It's nothing bad, I promise." Willing away the sudden, unexpected rush of moisture burning my eyes, I swallow my nerves and remind myself that this is _Bella_.

My Bella.

"I've been seeing a therapist. Not Tanya; someone else. I, ah, I've been working on the stuff that stuck with me after the accident." The next bit's the hardest, but it's the most important. "We've been discussing the reasons I turned to alcohol instead of confiding in you, and Bella, I need you to know, even if you believe nothing but this, that it was never your fault. It was never you, Bella. It was me."

In the dim light of the candles flickering on the table and the chandelier overheard, I see tears beginning to fall over her cheeks. "Edward, I…"

"I need you to know that." My chest aches with the need to know she's accepted it. It was never her fault. The more Garrett made me talk about it and reflect on that time, the clearer it became that she'd been shouldering the blame for all this.

For the distance between us leading to our separation, for my drinking. We both had a hand in our marriage deteriorating, but my inability to stop using alcohol as a crutch was the start of the end.

 _Except it doesn't have to be 'the end'._

"I wish I'd done this sooner, Bella. I do. I'll always regret turning down those counselling sessions right after I got out of the hospital."

"I remember," Bella sniffles, dabbing her cheeks with a napkin. "You said you were fine, that it was just a few broken bones and bruises. You said you'd be good as new once they healed up."

 _Except, I wasn't good as new. I wasn't anywhere close to good, even._

"I was a mess. I had the resources right there but I was too pigheaded to just accept the help. I know now that I should have, and I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

"Do you know what? I've got enough regrets to last me a lifetime." Reaching over to take both of my hands in hers, Bella smiles faintly. "Can we just agree that we both messed up along the way and move forward? We lost ourselves somewhere, we lost our way, but I think it's time we start over, if that's what you want."

Warmth spreads through my veins, my heart pounding like never before. I feel like a teenager all over again; I feel like my seventeen-year-old self standing on her front porch all those years ago, asking her to breakfast after prom and finally convincing her that I might be worth her time.

"I want that." My voice is thick with emotion I'm desperately trying to hold back. We're in the middle of a restaurant. I'd really rather not turn into a blubbering mess. "I want that more than I can explain. Let's start over. Who knows? Maybe this time, we won't mess it up."

Her surprised peals of laughter make me grin wider than I have in weeks.

 **~ i ~**

Standing on the doorstep of the house we bought together, but I no longer live in, is strange. Bella fidgets with the strap of her purse while I try to summon the courage to say what I want to say and leave her in peace.

"Thank you for trusting me and coming out this evening," I eventually murmur, reaching up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear when the cool breeze blows it in her face.

Smiling gratefully, Bella covers my hand with her own, holding it to her cheek. The gentle contentment in her eyes as she gazes up at me makes the nerves I've been feeling all day completely worthwhile. "Thank _you_ for a lovely evening."

'Lovely' works, but it doesn't feel _big_ enough to describe how much I enjoyed tonight. I love being a dad to Jace, Dillan, and Sadie, but therapy with Garrett has taught me that I also need to have time to just be Edward, the man, and also Edward, Bella's husband. When we brought our kids home, our relationship slipped to the wayside. It wasn't a priority. It should have been, though.

Now, we have the perfect opportunity to right that wrong—along with so many others.

The heat and softness of Bella's skin under my hand ignites the same feelings she's always elicited within me. I want her just as much now as I did when we were hormonal teenagers. Maybe more. With a light breeze playing around us and the low light of the torches lining the path illuminating her face, I don't know if I've ever wanted to kiss her as badly as I do now.

Her eyes drop from mine and her lower lip wedges itself between her teeth when I lean in. My stomach falls, but I get it. She's not ready. Diverting from my intended destination, I slowly press my lips against her head, instead. Her body shudders, my lips curling into the tiniest of smiles.

"I guess I won't see you now until Wednesday," she says quietly. It buoys me to hear the wistfulness in her tone.

 _She wants to spend more time with me._

Pulling back enough that I can see her downcast eyes, I tap her chin to get her to look up at me. "Why don't you come over tomorrow? I'll cook...the kids will love it."

Her thoughts literally play out across her face. She's always been expressive. I think that's one of the reasons I struggled to open up to her after the accident. I could _see_ how much it hurt her to see me struggling. Every wince or frown killed me. Every ounce of sympathy made me feel nauseated. Her repeated reassurances that she didn't blame me for the accident, for the kids' injuries, only made me feel worse, even though I know she didn't mean to upset me.

"I'd like that, but Edward, we need to take this slow, whatever _this_ is. I don't know what our relationship is going to look like going forward, but I think we both need time to ease back into it."

There's no denying that I'm a little disappointed, but she's right. We do need to take things slow. "I agree. But this is just dinner, okay? No pressure, just us spending time with each other and our kids."

"Okay." Shivering, Bella stretches up onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to my cheek. "Goodnight, Edward."

"Goodnight, Bella," I whisper, waiting until she's safely inside before heading back to the car.

The drive across town feels wrong, somehow. Every part of me longs to be back with Bella. I know her routine like the back of my own hand. As I pull up outside my apartment block, I know she's probably doing a last lap of the house, flicking off switches and locking up. As I step inside and try to ignore the pang of loneliness triggered by the silence that welcomes me, I know she's likely in the bathroom in front of her mirror getting ready for bed. When I crawl under the sheets and adjust my pillows, I picture her laying in the bed we picked out together right before the kids came home. A last big treat for ourselves before our lives were turned upside down.

I wish I were there, with her. In the dark of night, I often try to imagine her beside me. Not even in a sexual way most of the time. I miss the intimacy, the closeness. I crave the warmth of her body tucked against mine and the way she always used to snuggle into my back after hissing at me to quit snoring.

Alone, sleep doesn't come easy. I lay on my back with my hands folded behind my head and my eyes trained on the ceiling for over an hour before I can't resist any longer. My cell is in my hands and Bella name is on the screen before I can overthink the message my thumbs are typing. It chimes to tell me the message has been sent, and then I wait.

 _Was that too forward? Damn, if I know._ I don't want to fuck this up. Everything is a risk right now. Bella used to be a sure thing, _my_ sure thing. Now I just have to hope.

Second guessing my honesty, I've just about given up on getting a response tonight—or at all—when the screen lights up and casts the room in an eery, faint glow. Sighing heavily through my nose, I unlock the screen with a shaky swipe of my thumb and immediately find myself smiling from ear to ear.

 _ **I want a second chance at falling in love with you, too xxx**_

* * *

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